Fe x Cu
by chaosgenes
Summary: Kirk and Spock heed the advice of strangers from their past. Mysterious as it is, sometimes all they live on are those very words, assuring them that one day they will meet someone of incomparable measure. They just don't know who it'll be. Slow K/S
1. For the Longest Time

A/N: Hello, this is my first Star Trek fanfiction, and if it isn't obvious already, I do not own this franchise at all.

I am here to spread the love of K/S, and start a story before Star Trek 2 comes out next summer. I am that excited about it.

Anyways, this work of fiction will concentrate on Kirk and Spock slowly developing their relationship with each other, so expect long, multiple chapters. There will be alternating perspectives each chapter so I hope nobody minds that too much. By the way, the rating will be teen for most of the chapters, but mature in some so be forewarned.

Warp Factor 1: For the Longest Time

_IOWA_

The child, scarcely twelve, looked up from his crouched position to see the silhouette of a stranger. Squinting against the sun, the young boy appeared annoyed; after all, he was just released from the police station after a none-too-friendly confrontation about a stolen vehicle and its destruction. The boy, however, was curious as he examined the figure that approached him without warning.

"Hey there, what's your name?" the stranger asked casually with a smile, and even though the little boy could hear the voice, he could only see the outline of the stranger's jaws moving. The sun really was blinding him, but the boy didn't mind. He watched as this man sat down beside him with a careless grace.

"What's it to a stranger like you?" the boy asked suspiciously, squinting away.

"Nothing, except that you remind me a lot about myself when I was your age," the man replied easily. The boy could practically hear the smile within the low voice.

Having nothing to hide and having less adrenaline than when he drove off the cliff, the little boy muttered with his eyes to the ground, "James Tiberius Kirk."

"Really?" said the stranger. Then after a while, he added thoughtfully, "It's a nice name. Do you mind if I call you Jim?"

Startled, the young boy looked at the man and searched for any signs of mockery. He found none. Timidly, he answered the inquiring stranger with a small nod, "Yeah, you can call me Jim."

"Alright Jim," said the man grinning and slouching forward to meet Jim's eyes more. "Want to hear some advice? I bet you could use some at the moment."

Jim watched the man, and despite the stranger talking at a leisurely pace, he was clearly in a rush. Since the conversation started, Jim had noticed that the stranger checked his communicator watch twice. And even though Jim knew the man didn't have to be here, Jim found himself wanting the man to his shoulders, Jim briefly opened his heart and listened.

* * *

_Years Later_

Jim guided his motorcycle into the lot of the bar. After finding a decent parking area, he decreased the speed and grounded his boot into the pavement. The sound of the engine soon died out as he fumbled to turn the keys and extract it from the vehicle. Slowly, with unsteady feet, he made his way to the entrance of the bar and pushed his way through. A barrage of noise and sweat greeted his senses.

Familiar with the smell of booze, the sound of blaring music, and a crowd of people, Jim made his way through the human maze. He may have tripped once or twice, felt a woman up while recovering, and got slapped in the process, but Jim could care less. By the time he reached the bar counter, he left everything behind him. He wanted to forget – forget about all those curves he loved so much and those eyes that he could get lost in.

Curse his heart that broke so easily.

Intent with forgetting and determined to never fall in love again, Jim ordered a drink to drown his sorrows. However, he was on his third drink when he glimpsed a flash of red behind the burly fellow beside him. He heard a voice that spoke clearly over the present volume. It was delicate, light, and it cut through the buzzing in his head.

Jim felt his mind focusing just a bit more as he leaned over the bar counter to look past the man on his right; beyond that obstacle of a body, Jim saw a face that immediately made his stomach flip. He had seen many beautiful women in his time, but none other was like this. She was a rare one.

The woman's long black hair, pulled back into a straight ponytail, highlighted her facial features. Jim found himself tracing her profile with his eyes. From her hairline to the curve of her forehead, down to the bulb point of her nose, and even the curl of her lips and her small chin, Jim saw she was delicate. However, her bright eyes were sharp amongst her soft features. She was delicate, yes, but in no way did that translate to her personality.

His back to the crowd and world behind him, Jim watched in awe as the woman spoke with the bartender. Successfully forgetting his previous lover, Jim fulfilled the first half of his goal. He contemplated on the new beauty and his original intent. However, when the woman in red smiled and a laugh like crystal reached his ears, Jim damned his earlier determination to hell.

Before he knew it, Jim was leaning forward and conversing with the woman. Even in his slightly drunken state, Jim was fairly impressed with himself for being able to speak coherently at all.

He learned she was a cadet, of Starfleet no doubt, studying xenolinguistics.

Upon realizing that, Jim was disappointed beyond belief. A Starfleet cadet meant she wouldn't be earthbound, which meant long distance relationships, and Jim knew how those turned out. So, in the split second he fell in love, Jim dulled his interest just as easily. By then, he was by her side taking a swig from his glass. He smiled and watched her lips waver in surprise at his unexpected knowledge in the area. Jim knew then she definitely would have a talented mouth.

Her name was Uhura. Well, her last name was Uhura at least, and he probably wouldn't ever see her again.

Jim continued to converse with her, teasing her to get her first name, and everything would have turned out fine if it weren't for the hand that roughly clapped him on his shoulder. When Jim turned around, slightly annoyed, he saw that Uhura wasn't the only cadet around. Three, four, five? Jim couldn't really count at the moment but at least three men of similar bulking build faced him. It was like high school all over again.

They told him to piss off and Jim, not unaccustomed to hostility and therefore not easily threatened, refused. Or maybe it was his intoxicated state that made him act rash, arrogant, asking for trouble. Unsurprisingly, an all out brawl ensued.

There were screams and sounds of furniture, along with glass, being broken. Jim heard all this and more, but everything felt like a blur. His knuckles hurt, his face hurt, and his torso in general hurt. Despite the pain, however, Jim welcomed it. So intimate was he with trouble and pain that he felt it was a part of him, as if he deserved it. As if his father's death at his birth was not enough, misfortune followed Jim everywhere.

Jim couldn't think anything more. His face was being pummeled, he was helpless, outnumbered, and Jim wasn't so sure if he would escape death this time. But just when Jim was on the verge of blacking out, he heard a sharp whistle above the roaring in his ears. To Jim it was like a beacon of light.

The fight stopped, everyone left, and Jim learned that his saviour was none other than Captain Pike – the man who served alongside his father many years ago. The moment Jim knew who this man was, he also knew what kind of lecture he was going to receive. It wasn't difficult to read the disappointed and curious face of the captain. The man knew how others generally viewed him…a troublemaker with a brain that was apparently a huge waste in his body.

However, as Jim sat across from the Starfleet captain and listened to him speak, he realized this man was not like the many others who mocked and bullied him in his adolescence. Pike really knew where to twist the knives, but it was particular in a way that compelled yet angered Jim.

"Enlist in Starfleet," Pike said.

Jim scoffed and mocked the demand, but somewhere in the back of his mind, a memory echoed the same words.

"If you're half the man your father was, Jim, Starfleet could use you. You could be an officer in four years. You could have your own ship in eight. You understand what the Federation is, don't you? It's important. It's a peacekeeping and humanitarian armada…"

_That lead to my father's death_, Jim thought bitterly and interrupted Pike. "Are we done?"

Pike paused. "I'm done," he said and stood up.

And just when Jim thought he would have the last word, Pike continued on and gave the location and time for the new recruits shuttle take off.

Jim didn't look at him.

Pausing once more, Pike added, "Now your father was captain of a Starship for 12 minutes. He saved 800 lives, including your mother's and yours."

Jim stared at him and Pike held his gaze with a steel resolve.

"I dare you to do better," Pike finished.

And with those words immortalized into Jim's mind, leaving him speechless, the Starfleet captain turned his back and left.

* * *

Emotions churned up a storm in Jim that night. As he laid in the fields of Iowa, with his hands tucked behind his head and his motorbike just a meter away, he gave a long and hard look at the starry sky above him. His eyes searched for something, anything – a sign of some sort to tell him what to do, but all he could see were specs of a thousand plus suns. He couldn't remember the last time he gave the heavens all his attention like this, especially when he was sober. There were just too many nights he'd rather sleep away in than look up and be reminded of his father's grave.

Jim blinked. Pike didn't see him as some poor hapless man who lost his father, no – he damn well knew Jim was better than that. Just Jim didn't know it himself. He had the brains, just not the attitude because all his life he was downtrodden on. Growing up in Iowa with a backwater population didn't help him with his obvious and blooming intelligence. Teachers couldn't handle his curiosity. Kids didn't like his smart aleck attitude. His mother couldn't stand his love for the stars.

So, Jim hated himself. He became rebellious. He didn't like himself, but he also didn't want to be part of the mass that ostracized him. He didn't want to be assimilated to their ignorant and prejudice ways. He liked being different. He hated being different. Pike, however, was giving him the opportunity to be himself, not just to him, but to anyone who had ever thought he was an accident, a waste, a nobody.

Jim grit his teeth. _I'll be somebody,_ he thought. _I may not be my father, but I'll definitely do better than him._

Satisfied with a challenge worthy of pursuit, Jim closed his eyes. Thoughts slowly transitioned to memories of a man from his past – a man with a shadowed face and a familiar voice who also spoke of the stars. The same man who gave him advice that almost ruined his life.

* * *

"_You may not think life's not worth living right now, but you'll see that it can be very rewarding if you're patient," said the stranger with a small smile._

_Jim looked at him skeptically. _

_The stranger continued. "Trust me on this. Study and enlist in Starfleet. You'll meet the greatest people there. Even some you could really call friends."_

_Jim frowned. This was definitely not the advice he needed. "Enlist in Starfleet? I'm not even of age."_

"_That's why you work towards it kid, but look, the best thing is that you're gonna find someone you'll love – with all your damn heart in Starfleet," the stranger quickly checked his watch. "And when you do, there'll be a time when you'll have to choose between that person and the greater good."_

_Jim's ears perked and looked curiously at the stranger. "How do you know all this?"_

_The stranger was quiet for a moment, contemplating, but Jim listened attentively. "I know this, kid, because I've lived through it. I was like you once. I didn't belong here. I belonged amongst the stars. We belong amongst the stars. What I needed was amongst the stars," the stranger murmured and then he stared at Jim. "The person who needs you will be amongst the stars."_

_Jim stared at the man back and furrowed his brows. "I don't understand."_

_The man firmly placed his hands on either side of Jim's shoulders and said, "It's alright. I may sound crazy but you've gotta listen and trust me on this. Lives will be at stake. When the time comes and you have to choose between who you love and Starfleet, choose –"_

* * *

Jim couldn't remember what the man had said then in those last few moments before his uncle came, but the stranger had said enough to get his hopes up. He studied alright, and people made fun of his dream to go into Starfleet. Even his mother vehemently discouraged it. At that time, Jim had something to look forward to. Someone he would love with all his heart. He wondered how that would feel like, but the lack of support he received dulled his dream and Jim was left with "aptitude tests that were off the charts" and no goal in mind. In terms of love, Jim settled for less. He thought the stranger crazy and one day said "screw this." He went out with the first girl who asked him.

His love life turned out to be one train wreck after another, but maybe Starfleet would change all that.

Jim sat up with a new resolve and when he opened his eyes to look at the stars, he saw a streak of light cut through the sky.

* * *

_Shipyard_

Jim was amused by the divorced recruit beside him. When he saw Uhura just beyond him in the next row of seats opposite of him, Jim felt a warm sensation run through his body.

"I never did get that first name," he said smiling at her.

The woman rolled her eyes and shook her head with good-nature and disbelief.

Jim couldn't help thinking about what the stranger said to him many years before. His heart sped up at the thought of it. Jim studied for Starfleet, his hard work paid off, and now he was enlisting in Starfleet, so, he was supposed to meet the person of his dreams right?

And for the longest time, Jim thought that person was Uhura.

* * *

This moment is crucial, but I hope the slowness will not discourage anyone from giving this fic a shot. Please review and let me know what you guys think :)


	2. The Individual

_A/N: First of all, thank you all to those who have reviewed, faved, and are following this fic, although I could use some more reviews._

_This chapter is from Spock's point of view and is as slow as the first chapter. I know there are huge time skips, but I do this to establish details and memories for plot reasons, so please bear with me._

_This is not a racy fic of any sort and if you were expecting that, you would be sorely disappointed. This fic is about a relationship that will define two individuals and bridge them together emotionally (and eventually physically maybe). That takes work people. So, with that said, I hope you will enjoy this chapter and many to come._

* * *

Warp Factor 2: The Individual

_Vulcan_

After finding out his father only married his mother because it was "logical," Spock never felt so distasteful towards a word. He continued to sit on the window ledge even after his elderly father left him to his thoughts. The small Vulcan wiped the green blood from his lips and stared at his knuckles. They fared no better than the wound on his mouth.

"Greetings," a voice called above from where Spock sat, and when he looked up he saw a Vulcan wearing the traditional robes of the planet.

After a moment of silence, Spock only nodded to acknowledge the other Vulcan's presence.

"You must be Spock."

The young Vulcan stood up to look at the stranger more closely. "Affirmative. I am Spock," he said and continued without trying to sound too guarded. "Are you one of the instructors from the academy here to lecture me further on my – "

"I am not here to lecture you, young one," the stranger interrupted as he knelt down to face Spock. "Merely the opposite. I am here to give you advice."

Spock looked at the other Vulcan with a curiosity that usually managed to get him into trouble. "You have not yet identified yourself," he stated, "and yet you wish to give me advice?"

The stranger's eyes were indifferent and calm, but Spock could see a hardness that he could not identify with.

"It does not matter who I am at this moment. I will only have you know that I was like you once," the stranger answered. "I was not considered Vulcan enough and I was judged because of that, but do not despair, Spock. You are from two worlds."

Spock immediately knew what the other Vulcan was referring to. "These two worlds are opposites. Are you advising me to appease to both when I cannot even appease to one?" Spock wanted to be angry, but he forced the emotion down as soon as he felt it.

"No," the stranger replied. "I ask you to do neither. You will find your own way, however, it will neither be on Vulcan nor on Earth," the stranger said his voice dropping a decibel lower. Then he fell into silence as he blinked and looked off into the distance.

Anticipating an answer, Spock stared at the older Vulcan, although it would be 12.5 seconds later when he would receive one.

* * *

_Years_ _Later_

Spock stood before the High Council in defiance. His application for the Vulcan Science Academy had just been approved, despite his "disadvantage," yet he found that he did not wish to attend said institution after all. Perhaps it was out of spite, as he gave the Vulcan equivalent of a glare to the Vulcans who were seated in a row above him, and declined the acceptance. Or, perhaps it was then that he realized that the Vulcan Science Academy was not where he belonged.

Because of his heritage, Spock had endeavored to reach a level of superior intellect and logic in order to attend the academy (and as a side thought, also applied to Starfleet). By doing so, Spock had hoped any existing prejudice would cease upon proving that he could do so. Consequently, he far surpassed many of his peers. Unfortunately, that effort was lost the moment the council mentioned his human mother.

Despite advances in technology and despite Vulcan philosophy, Spock saw that Vulcan was indeed a closed-minded society. At that precise moment, words from the stranger in his past flashed across his mind, and Spock felt his resolve solidify.

Spock gave the figures of the High Council a swift glance as he exited. Each one of them were as emotionless as the other, but their condescending eyes told him all. This was truly where he did not belong – not amongst people that continued to belittle him. Spock did not wish to further pursue knowledge on a planet that refused to accept him, yet alone one that did not approve of his mother. He will find his own place, somewhere amongst the stars.

_And perhaps follow some old advice,_ Spock thought as he left the hall and never turned back.

* * *

_Blinking once more, the stranger turned his attention from the vista, briefly glanced at his communicator, then looked at the younger Vulcan. "Spock," he began with a voice firm and yet gentle, "I advise you to enlist in Starfleet and venture the stars. There you will find an individual of incomparable measure that will define your very existence." _

"_Who is this individual you speak of?" Spock asked, trying to not sound overly interested._

"_You are a curious Vulcan," the stranger said with an undeniable affection that startled Spock. He continued, "Despite what you have been told, curiosity is not something to be ashamed of. It is not exclusively a human emotion, for where would post-warp civilizations be if it were not for curiosity?"_

"_That statement is not empirical," Spock pointed out. However, the young Vulcan thought the stranger's words were refreshing._

"_You are correct. It is an opinion," the stranger confirmed with what seemed to be curved lips, or perhaps it was just a figment of Spock's imagination, for the other Vulcan's tone and expression became grim as he continued. "This individual I speak of will have many opinions, ones you will find aggravating, as well as enlightening, but this individual will also be the one you will hold dear above all others – even your duty."_

_Spock could only stare blankly at the stranger, unable to comprehend the Vulcan's words at all. He only vaguely recognized the very human expression that the other Vulcan was curiously exhibiting. It was often the emotion his mother displayed when she stared at his father when his back was turned, although, it was an emotion Spock had yet to be familiar with._

* * *

_Years Later: Starfleet Academy_

Clad in black, Spock walked down the hallways of Starfleet Academy. Even though it was 2100, there were still a fair amount of cadets roaming the halls, their eyes locked on their PADDs. A few others were conversing amongst each other, their voices echoing loudly in the hallways.

Spock passed them. As some were his students, they lightly acknowledged him with a nod, which Spock returned with the same gesture. Then he continued on his way with purpose, his hands clasped behind his back and his head facing forward.

As he continued walking further and turned multiple corners, the hallways grew distinctly quiet until only the sound of his boots clicking on the floor could be heard. He stopped after turning a particular corner. Spock was not familiar with this part of the academy, so when the lone Vulcan saw grand windows that stretched from the ceiling to the ground, he stood in suppressed awe and momentarily forgot about his destination.

In the distance was a silhouette of the Golden Bridge and a few hover crafts travelling through the air. Spock also saw cadets leaving the building littering the ground below, but what caught his eye were the warm hues that washed across the horizon line. He had been stuck in a building for the majority of his days on Earth, and when he could find the time to go outside, it was usually cloudy or night. So, Spock appreciated the spectacle he found by chance and relaxed his stiff shoulders.

As he stepped closer to the window, the light warmed his face and suddenly, Spock missed his desert planet. He had not returned home since his father disapproved of his Starfleet career. However beautiful the sun on Earth was, it did not warm him to the bone like Vulcan's.

Spock pondered further on his stay on Earth. His peers were intimidated by him because of his Vulcan heritage, and despite the planet being multicultural and universal, Spock still found a similar discrimination as he did on is home planet, but it was the opposite on Earth. He was praised for being logical, however, he was also accused of being heartless. And although Spock did not regret leaving Vulcan, he was wondering now if it was right to listen to the stranger's advice and enlist in Starfleet. He found the experience welcoming in terms of the education and the on-field work, although the interaction with his classmates and professors was something Spock could do without.

During Spock's stay, there were some people which he regarded as close colleagues, such as Captain Pike, whom he met during a practicum. He was a man that was truly what Starfleet represented. The captain was intelligent, reliable, diplomatic, and unprejudiced. Above all else, the man was charismatic. Alone, he recruited many individuals that became much more. He even convinced Spock to become an officer on his ship. Since his meeting with Captain Pike, Spock met many more who were just as accepting of him in which Spock found his time on Earth valuable. However…

Spock continued to stare at the sunset with less vigour than before. He did not meet any individual that he would consider above all others. He was not sure what to expect, but he had anticipated more in his early academy days – that in the course of his studies, he would meet someone of exceptional calibre. For what reason? Spock did not know. It had been years of fruitless waiting and Spock felt unusually alone and disappointed. Absentmindedly placing a hand on the window, Spock outlined the silhouette of the bridge with a slow gaze, and wondered if he could keep on waiting.

In that instance, there was no one in the hall save for the Vulcan, but so distracted was he that when a door creaked open, the Vulcan did not even hear it. All that ran through his mind were thoughts of disappointment and lingering longing, until an abrupt crash ripped through his concentration.

Vulcan ears perked up at the echoing sounds of books falling to the floor in multiple heavy thuds. He swiftly turned around and saw a man in red swearing profusely as he quickly bent down and tried to retrieve his books while trying to hold the remaining stack. Naturally, Spock was inclined to help the individual and within three strides, reached the man.

"Cadet," he addressed as he himself bent down and picked up several leather bound books. "I highly advise you do not go around carrying a stack of books in which you clearly cannot carry."

"I'm fine," the man retorted grabbing a book and quickly topped it on his stack. "Or I was fine until," the man began standing up, at the same time as Spock, and looked up. His breath fell short.

The Vulcan stared at the man who had fallen curiously silent. The cadet had dark blonde hair, cropped shortly with a rugged style, a distinct forehead, a sturdy nose, firm lips that hung open, and irises the colour of the ocean. They were features that Spock would categorize as attractive, and as they stood face to face with a stack of books in between them, it took Spock half a second before he could find his own voice.

The Vulcan raised a brow and inquired, "Until what, cadet?"

And suddenly the man became animate, quickly averting his eyes before staring at Spock once more. "Until I tripped," he answered swiftly.

Spock looked around the floor and picked up one more book. "Tripped?" Spock asked. "Cadet, you do realize there is nothing here to trip on. The hall here is empty save for you and I."

"I realize that. I just happened to trip on my own legs," the man state staring at Spock's uniform and added, "Professor."

Spock raised another brow as he stared curiously at the blonde. "Although illogical, I will accept that answer." Spock learned as much during his stay on Earth that some humans were just not logical. "Do you need assistance, cadet?"

"No, it's fine professor," the cadet said grinning and moved to sidestep Spock. "I'm used to carrying all these books – " But before the cadet could finish what he was saying, he stumbled once more and the stack of books in his hands began to tip.

Spock stretched out a hand for the man's elbow before he knew it and tugged the man back up while steadying the stack of books with his other hand. The cadet muttered under his breath as he casually pulled away from Spock's grasp.

"See? I tripped on my own feet," the cadet stated with a small smile keeping his distance. "But honestly, I got this professor. Thanks for picking up my books, so if you'll excuse me, I've got some studying to do." He flashed Spock another grin.

"Very well, cadet," Spock said nodding his head although he severely doubted the man's answer. He watched the man walk away with a definite strength that was not apparent earlier. It was clear the man did not trip on his own legs at all. He had not taken two steps before he collapsed on one, as if the man's own legs had failed him. Spock, however, will not question the man's answer. What Spock wanted to know even more was why the man was carrying dozens of earthbound books around. The academy had plenty of electronic libraries and databases which were accessible to all students. It was extremely inefficient and burdensome to carry the old-fashioned texts around, so Spock wondered why.

His fingers tingled at the memory of touching the well worn books.

If he happened to chance upon the cadet once more, Spock planned on asking the man. He glanced out the window once more, seeing the sun had dipped low well below the bridge, and then walked further down the hall.

This was an academy of over a million cadets and professors. The chances of meeting that particular individual once more were extremely slim, but Spock hoped anyways. He wished to satisfy his curiosity. Even more than that, he wished to see the man's face once again.

With each stride down the hallway and around corners, Spock finally managed to stop in front of a double door and knocked on it.

"Come in."

Spock waited for the door to slide open before entering. "Captain Pike," he greeted.

"Ah, Lieutenant Spock," Captain Pike said warmly. He indicated a chair to Spock who quietly sat down. "You were due here five minutes ago."

"5.2 minutes ago," Spock corrected.

Pike's smile widened. "You're not a tardy type, Spock. What kept you?"

"I ran into a cadet," Spock said simply, "and assisted him."

Pike sighed. "So nothing too life changing, huh? That's too bad…"

Spock silently agreed.

* * *

"Remember that there will be a double examination next week," Spock announced to the class. Protests filled the air in which Spock quickly silenced. "There should be no complaints as I have given each one of you all this course's syllabus at the start of term. If you have not begun studying, I highly suggest that you start now. Class dismissed."

Students shuffled out of the lecture hall with many words of profanity and muttered syllables. Unsurprisingly, he heard "cold-hearted bastard" and "damn Vulcan" with his acute ears. Spock watched them with disinterest. He did not understand their complaints when he clearly stated there would be a double examination earlier this month.

Deciding he would not think about it anymore, the Vulcan turned away to systematically power off all technological instruments. When he turned around, he saw a cadet of tall stature with long black hair and dark skin waiting for him. Unlike most cadets who cowered or were defensive in front of him, the woman began with a strong voice, her eyes intense. "Professor Spock," she stated, "Would it be possible during your spare time to assist me in understanding Chapter 7? I have started studying two week prior to this day, but there are concepts I just can't understand."

"Cadet Uhura," he greeted and the woman looked slightly taken back. Spock mused. "Do not be surprised, cadet. I know all 678 of my students by name and face. You are no exception."

"Is that a Vulcan ability?" Uhura asked bemused. "There are a lot of us."

"Indeed," said Spock stepping down from his platform. "We have an eidetic memory."

"Then it's best I use it to my advantage," Uhura said smiling and asked the first of her many questions to come.

Within less than a month, Spock accepted that he would never see the cadet he met in the hallway again. It disappointed him to admit this for there were rarely spontaneous meetings of that illogicalness in which an individual was indifferent towards him. No one smiled to him as brightly as his mother, but he could not say the same for that one particular person.

So, Spock spent his spare time tutoring his students, especially Uhura, which he found exceptional in her field of study. She was eager to learn and since their first conversation, she talked more frequently during his lectures, asking questions to challenge Spock. The Vulcan easily gave his responses, for there were few that challenged him, and she slowly became a favourite.

One day, when Spock sat down to tutor Uhura once more, he realized he enjoyed her company. Although it was a formal setting, her attitude was casual. She joked occasionally to amuse Spock and the Vulcan found the way her lips curled into a smile pleasing. The way her facial features manoeuvred itself to express emotions were pleasing as well, along with her voice. They were all familiar faces and gestures, however, for Uhura reminded him of his mother. Spock was comfortable around her.

For the next couple weeks, the two became closer as a student and professor. When thoughts of his conversation with the stranger wandered into his mind, he thought of the individual that was suppose to define him. Where was this individual?

And when a voice called him from the bottom of his lecture platform and he was met with an eager and bright face, he thought, for the longest time, that that individual was Uhura.

_What do you guys think so far? _


	3. Chance Meetings

A/N: Well, it took me awhile to get chapter 3 out, since I was very dissatisfied with it. I kept adding things in that I didn't plan to originally and this is the result.

Thank you all who have reviewed, faved, and are following this fic. I greatly appreciate it :)

* * *

Warp 3: Chance Meetings

"Bones!" Jim yelled as he kicked his bedroom door open. Darkness greeted his eyes but it didn't bother Jim one bit as he hastily made his way to his desk on the left wall. His eyes began to adjust and dilate to collect more light as a groan came from the right side of the room. "Bones!" Jim said again, not bothering to hide the excitement from his voice. Then Jim carefully dropped his stack of books on his desk before running across the room, pushing the door close as he did so. "You won't believe what just happened to!" Jim said a loud pouncing on to a sleeping figure.

It wasn't long before Jim was given a response. "Dammit Jim!" the figure cried out in a deep and gruff voice. Whipping his blanket off him, the man cursed loudly before asking, "Didn't I tell you not to wake me up until the next morning? I pulled two all-nighters, Jim!"

Jim smiled to himself as he slid off the man to sit on the edge of the bed instead. "Sorry about that Bones, I'm just feeling a little too excited." Jim admitted with lightness in his voice. "You know me."

"Of course I know you. We've been friends for three years now," the man answered shifting beneath the blankets to sit up. "But then I always wonder why I'm still your friend. Lights to 40%," he added roughly at the end.

Dark silhouettes and shadows slowly took shape as the lights turned on, and Jim saw how truly tired his friend was. Jim recognized the man's uniform to be a doctor's coat. A name tag, reading Leonard McCoy, was pinned on the left side of his uniform. Jim waited and watched as the man known as McCoy rubbed sleep from his eyes and exhaled deeply.

Leaning back against the bed board, McCoy asked with a mumble and a half-yawn, "Who's skirt are you chasing now?"

"Why would you assume I'm chasing after a girl?" Jim asked slightly offended.

McCoy glared at him through sleep deprived eyes. "Why else would you wake me up when I specifically asked you not to, and especially when you're in the middle of studying for your exams?" McCoy answered with annoyance. Then he took a breath once more and asked, "So, who's the lucky gal?"

"I met him when I left the library earlier," said Jim grinning once he saw McCoy's reaction.

"Or _guy_," McCoy said exasperated with a slight roll of his eyes.

"Actually, I don't think he's even human at all," Jim said as an afterthought. "He's got pointy-ears and brows that always seem angry."

"Pointy ears and angry brows?" McCoy repeated. "Must be a Vulcan. I've heard rumours that they're as emotional as a block of ice."

"A Vulcan? Well, never met one before," Jim mused.

McCoy took a deep breath and stared sternly at the man facing him. "Look Jim, whatever you're thinking – just stop. You're just gonna get into trouble again," McCoy warned. "Examinations are just around the corner. You don't have time for this."

Jim stared at McCoy through the dim lighting. His friend matched his intensity and Jim knew he was right. Jim glanced away, to somewhere that didn't have a human face. He didn't have time for relationships, especially if he wanted to finish his program within three years and live up to his promise to Captain Pike. Clenching and then unclenching his fists, Jim sighed and slid off McCoy's bed.

"You're right Bones," Jim agreed, patting McCoy's leg. "You know just the right things to say to keep me on track," said Jim with a small turn up of his lips.

McCoy raised a brow that made Jim recall the Vulcan's brows with fondness. "Seriously, Jim? Then why is it you ignore about 80% of the things I say?"

"Well, I've got to have a captain's attitude if I want to be a captain don't I?" Jim smirked. "You can give me suggestions and opinions and I'll _consider_ them."

"And one helluva captain you'll make one day…" McCoy muttered yawning.

Jim smiled warmly at McCoy who only snorted at him. "Thank you, Bones. Now I'll leave you to your beauty sleep."

"Good riddance," Bones muttered pulling his blanket over him.

After taking a second to see his friend drown himself with blankets, Jim walked back to his side of the room and looked at his stack of books on his desk. There were about twelve strewn about of various colour and sizes. He picked up an emerald coloured one and stared at it for a while longer. It was the book he had left forgotten on the floor when he gave all his attention to the Vulcan. Slowly, Jim's fingers smoothed over the leather bound book while his thoughts wandered back to their first meeting.

The moment he had opened the library doors and laid eyes on the figure standing by the window, Jim had already been enraptured. Not only had he been surprised by someone standing there at that hour and at that specific area, known to be empty, but Jim was also surprised by how still the figure had been – like a statue amongst a golden sunset.

The figure had stood straight with one hand behind his back while another rested on the surface of the glass. To Jim who had been studying vigorously for the past few weeks and only giving women a spare glance, he had thought the figure was surreal, like some being in a painting of light. Before that, nothing could've pulled his attention away. Jim would've walked away and thought that he saw something refreshing and then thought nothing of it. And that would have been the case had he not dropped his books at his own surprise.

With languid movements, Jim slipped his body into his chair and placed the book in front of him. The man's thoughts did not sway from his earlier encounter.

If the Vulcan had not turned around and helped Jim, Jim could've walked away with no other lingering thoughts. If the Vulcan did not have such unusual but attractive features, then Jim wouldn't have stared at awe and in silence. And, if the Vulcan had not spoken so formally with such indifference while displaying amusement, then Jim wouldn't have felt nervous and trip over nothing. But the Vulcan had done all this and more.

Jim stared at the green book and sighed. "Damn," he murmured, leaning back heavily and dragging a hand through his hair. "I didn't even get his name…"

* * *

Jim continued to study. Before he knew it, examinations passed without incident. Through it all, even though Jim couldn't hope to make anything out of the meeting with the Vulcan, Jim felt reenergized. However, days spanned into weeks and then into months without incident. Jim didn't expect much but to feel disappointment was an understatement. He had not seen the Vulcan at all.

Jim tried to forget about his recent muse and concentrate on the next set of examinations. He had better things to do than be hopeful. Running to and from libraries at all odd hours of the day and attending all lectures he deemed important, Jim kept the goal of beating the Kobayashi Maru in mind. He also established study groups in which one consisted of Uhura.

"Oh, you're not gonna annoy me today, Kirk?" Uhura asked from across the table as Jim sat down. Despite their relationship that turned sour when Jim first entered the academy, he still found Uhura's voice comforting.

"Sorry, were you expecting it?" Jim asked with a grin, placing his books in front of him. "There are days when I can be serious."

"So you're the rumoured walking stack of books around campus," Uhura mused leaning back.

Jim looked surprised. "Walking stack of books? Where did that come from?"

"Just passing gossip," Uhura answered as she looked through her PADDs. "Who knew you were such a keener."

Then after an hour worth of debates and discussions on command procedures, Jim realized he had to return his books before they were due at midnight. Even though they weren't on high demand, they were still ancient and therefore valuable. Jim learned the hard way that ridiculous fines would accumulate by the minute and he just couldn't afford to spend any extra credits on expenses that could be well-avoided.

So, when Jim checked his communicator and saw that it was almost midnight, he panicked. He had kept the books longer than he planned and now he would only have less than fifteen minutes to get to the library. Jim mentally cursed at himself. The library was halfway across the campus and that took at least twenty minutes to get to. He would have to run.

"Sorry ladies and gents, but I gotta get to the library," Jim announced standing up from the table. A few people expressed their disapproval, but Jim only laughed a little and gathered his books up. "Hey, hey. We'll study next time, alright?"

"Fine, get outta here you bookworm," someone called out.

"Yeah, go make love to your damn books," another one said.

Not wanting to reveal the reason why he really needed to get to the library, Jim just chuckled and put a few books under his arms as he manoeuvred himself out of his chair.

"Kirk, wait," Uhura called standing up, "I need to leave too. You're headed to the library near the bridge right? I'll go with you." And with that, more complaints filled the air as Uhura also packed up her belongings.

"What? Got a hot midnight date or something Uhura?" Jim asked amused. He watched as the woman gracefully slid off her chair and made her way towards him.

"Perhaps," she answered with a sly smile glancing up at him, "but it's definitely not with you," she added quickly just as Jim was about to comment.

Despite the rush he was in, Jim did not hurry. He walked foot to foot with Uhura and continued to converse with her as if he had all the time in the world. "You know me so well, Uhura," Jim said smiling beside her.

Uhura looked at Jim with speculating eyes, "Do I, Kirk? I didn't know you were such a romantic – going to libraries all term in hopes of looking for somebody that you only met once."

"I did not – where did you hear all this from?" Jim demanded a little taken back.

Uhura curled her lips as she lengthened her strides. "Passing gossip. So is it true?"

Jim narrowed one eye at her, wondering why Uhura was so interested. "Maybe," he answered briskly. "But I really did go to the libraries for studying and research material. By the way, where exactly are you heading? It's not to the library, is it?" Jim asked, trying to turn the subject away.

Luckily, Uhura was easily distracted by the question. "Oh, no. I'm not heading to the library at all."

"Then why did want to come with me?" Jim asked puzzled. At Uhura's silence, Jim speculated and decided to have fun. "Did you just want to be alone with me?"

Uhura glared at him. "Don't be so self-conceited, Kirk. I just needed an excuse to get out of that study group."

"Then you really do have a hot midnight date!" Jim proclaimed. It was shocking news to the man. Throughout Jim's pursuit of the woman, she had not once said 'yes' on a date with him or any other cadet within the academy. "But you _never _go on dates!"

"It's not like I'm not allowed to," Uhura stated, slightly offended. "But, it's not really a date. Just meeting up for a small tutorial," she admitted glancing away.

"In the middle of the night? You gotta be kidding me, Uhura," Jim said exasperated. "There's only one thing that's gonna happen and I doubt it's going to be a 'small tutorial' like you say it is." Jim didn't know why he felt so fired up. Maybe it was because he was rejected so many times by this very woman, and now that she found someone else, he wondered what he was lacking.

"Kirk, Professor S-" Uhura began but then quickly covered her mouth with a hand. She stared in alarm at Kirk as they stopped walking in front of a forked path. Silence fell between them once more.

Jim stared back at her with the same amount of surprise before he glanced away and rubbed his neck, feeling a little awkward. The anger he felt earlier easily retreated. "Look, if you didn't want me to know," he murmured looking back at the woman, "I can just forget about it. You can be sure of that."

However, Jim wasn't sure if Uhura believed him, no matter how long they spent looking at each other, but the fear that was apparent on the woman's face slowly began to dissolve. She fixed her eyes on Jim in which he returned with equal fervor.

"Alright," Uhura began slowly. "I'll trust you, Kirk, but don't ask me anymore questions," she warned.

"Don't worry about it," Jim said smiling. "I'm not a gossiping kind of guy. By the way, aren't you going to be late for your hot midnight date?"

Uhura looked un-amused at Jim and then checked her communicator before glaring at the man. "You really like that phrase, huh? It's true though, I am going to be late if I don't hurry right now," said Uhura moving off in a different direction.

"Wait – it's night. I can walk you to…wherever you're heading," Jim offered.

Uhura smiled. "Only a boyfriend has that privilege. Besides, don't you have a hot midnight date yourself? With your books?" she asked walking backwards away from the man.

"Har har, very funny," said Jim rolling his eyes. "Fine. I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yeah, see you later," Uhura called as she ran off down the hallway.

Jim watched her fleeing back before he sprinted off in the opposite direction, swearing in his head. He didn't know what time it was but he was way beyond late now. Despite his urgency to get to the library, staying and talking to Uhura was worth it. At least he knew now she had a heart that could be swayed. The only thing he regretted was that he wasn't the one behind it.

As best as Jim's legs could carry him, he dashed through hallways and stairs until he breathed the crisp air of the night. Still, he continued on, trying to not drop any of the books he was carrying. His heart pounded, his hands were numb, and now Jim truly wished he took McCoy's advice about carrying a backpack around.

After six minutes of non-stop running, Jim managed to get to the building where the library was located four floors up. He cursed as he made his way up by foot though, knowing that that particular library could only be accessed by stairs because of a certain engineer in the past who misread the blueprints of the building during its construction.

Jim's thighs burned. The last time he was this tired was, well, the last time he had to return books to the same library. "God damn me," Jim muttered trying to catch his breath after two flights of stairs. He then quickly rounded a corner and bumped into a body.

There was no time to recover from the impact and Jim dropped all his books. "You've got to be kidding me," Jim said aloud in frustration. He didn't take one look at the person he bumped into before he bent down and started gathering the fallen objects.

"Cadet?" a voice said from beside him.

Jim's ears tingled at the familiar voice and quickly glanced to his right. To his utter disbelief, there was the Vulcan he met months prior kneeling right beside him. In his hand was a book.

Jim bolted upright. "Professor," Jim stated in surprise with a step back. For a moment, his books were forgotten. "What are you doing here? It's the middle of the night – wait, don't tell me you have a hot midnight date too..!"

The Vulcan looked skeptically at Jim as he picked up the rest of the books on the floor. "It is past midnight and neither is it hot, Cadet. I was simply on my way down after a meeting," explained the Vulcan as he stood up. "I'm assuming you are on your way to the library two floors above."

"In fact I am," Jim stated. He couldn't believe his luck. Meeting the very same Vulcan again in the same building? Fate must have something cooked up for him, but then Jim remembered his goal. He shuffled past the Vulcan and said in a hurry, "Sorry, professor but I gotta go," and with that he dashed down the hall towards the staircase.

"Wait – Cadet!" Jim could hear from down the hall behind him, but Jim did not turn back. He needed to get to the library as soon as possible, despite wanting to stop and chat with the Vulcan. And as he ran, he wondered why the load in his arm was lighter than usual.

"Cadet, did you not hear me?"

Jim nearly stumbled at the unexpected figure right alongside him. He couldn't believe how fast this person was. "No, no, I heard you alright," said Jim through short breaths as he continued running, despite his surprise. "I'm just really in a hurry –"

"As you have demonstrated already," said the Vulcan with amusement. Jim gaped at him. The Vulcan wasn't even breaking a sweat. "You have forgotten to take the rest of your books. I'm assuming they will be overdue?"

"_Are_ overdue," Jim corrected immediately coming to a halt in front of the library entrance. He then proceeded to shove the books onto a conveyer belt slot beside the door, and waited for the books to be logged back in. He let the Vulcan do the same as Jim tried to calm down.

"Thanks for helping me out," Jim said between haggard breaths. His hands were resting on his knees as he looked up at the Vulcan. He looked exactly the same as Jim remembered him with his black uniform, crisp cropped hair, strong jaw, and poised posture. In the moonlight, the Vulcan looked especially exceptional, and Jim took notice of that.

"Although thanking is illogical, I accept your sentiment," the Vulcan responded standing a couple feet away.

Jim straightened his back. "Thanking is illogical? Well, I've never heard of that before. Then what about helping, Professor?"

"Helping was logical," the Vulcan easily answered. "I intended to inquire from you the reason of your study methods. And as it is undetermined whether or not I will meet you again, I took the opportunity given to me."

After listening, Jim was taken back. He looked at the library doors before returning his attention to the Vulcan in front of him. "You mean using books to study? You ran after me just so you could ask me about that?" Saying it out loud was just as incredulous to the man.

"Books are an increasingly rare method of studying in this century. It is extremely inefficient in terms of locating exactly what you need, and therefore time consuming. Also, since Earth's trees continue to deplete, the production of books and paper in general have also ceased in order to preserve Earth's forests. Not to mention, books are cumbersome, as I have seen you demonstrate twice already," the Vulcan pointed out. "Therefore, I am curious as to know why a Starfleet cadet such as yourself is employing the use of ancient sources when there are other advanced tools at your disposal within the academy."

The way the Vulcan stood in all seriousness while asking such a question amused Jim to no end. He half-laughed as he began to answer. "It's personal preference, Professor. I like the physical object itself rather than the electronic versions, despite the inefficiencies. It's nostalgic." Then Jim added reluctantly, "I got the habit from my mother."

"Is that so…" the Vulcan murmured, glancing away momentarily before facing Jim. There was a twinkle in his eye that Jim did not see before. "I am familiar with habits, illogical as they are."

Jim smiled. He didn't know why, but everything the Vulcan said made him want to do just so. "That's good," said Jim nodding his head with a small chuckle. "So," Jim asked tilting his head up, "are you satisfied with my answer?"

The Vulcan gave a slight bow of his head, his hands still behind his back. "Yes, your answer is quite satisfactory. I apologize if I have kept you from any prior arrangements you may have."

Jim shook his head, a smile slowly spreading across his features, "No, it's not a problem at all, Professor. I appreciated your assistance."

"Bones!" Jim called out, shaking his sleeping friend awake. "You won't believe what just happened!"

"God dammit, Jim!" McCoy growled, throwing his blanket off. "What is it this time?!"

"I met the Vulcan again," Jim answered with a wide grin.

McCoy put a hand to his forehead and slowly massaged it with a sigh. "Jim, how many times have I told you – it's exam week – you don't have time for this – "

"I know Bones, but what are the chances, right?" Jim countered easily. "You said so yourself I shouldn't make something out of a meeting so small, but I've just met him a second time. Now, even I'm not that naïve to think that means something more, I won't think too much of this. But, like they say, "Third time's the charm," right Bones?"

McCoy raised a brow at Jim and scoffed. "'Third time's the charm' my ass Jim. The third time my wife and I had an argument, we divorced."

"Well, maybe those first two were warnings," mused Jim, "but I have a good feeling about this Vulcan – "

"Vulcan _this_, Vulcan _that_ – did you even get his name Jim?"

Jim's mind blanked immediately. All those minutes that passed by like seconds conversing with the Vulcan and Jim had nothing to show for it, not even something as basic as a name. Jim sat in silence, feeling embarrassed and disappointed, for barely a moment before he puffed up his chest with confidence and stated, "Whatever, if it is meant to be, we'll meet again and I'll ask him."

"Well, good luck meeting your Vulcan again," McCoy muttered, pulling his blankets over him and signalling to Jim that he clearly wanted to be left _alone._

The next day, when Jim asked Uhura how her "hot midnight date" went, he was answered with a glare and a whip of hair on his face.

* * *

So, how is it so far? Not too boring I hope. The pace will pick up after I get through the whole Kobayashi Maru incident and the Enterprise saving Earth (God no, I'm not doing a recap of the movie, - just scenes that will enrich this fic hopefully).

In regards to length of these chapters and perspective, how am I doing? Constructive criticism will be very helpful :)


	4. The Man behind the Books

_A/N:_ Well, this took a while to get out, but I was stuck on how to end it without making it even longer. If you haven't noticed, I added a title cover to this story. Serious photoshopping was committed but I'm pretty satisfied with it.

Thanks to those who've faved/followed and reviewed thus far. I now present to you a chapter with another crappy title:

Warp 4: The Man behind the Books

Cadets of all levels bustled about in the academy hallways. Daylight streamed in through the rectangular windows. Amongst the flow of red in one particular path, a figure clothed in black moved swiftly against them for when the cadets laid eyes on him, they parted ways to allow his single form through.

Chatter, shouts, footsteps, and the rustle of clothes filled the space around him. It was something he had grown accustomed to in the years he had stayed on Earth, so his ears did not react to every single noise there was anymore. He also tolerated the small amount of physical contact he received in such busy areas. Most were accidental and unavoidable unless he had the power of foresight and an armor of steel. As a Vulcan, that would be illogical, so, Spock carried on his way.

Hands firmly placed behind him and not breaking a single stride of his legs, Spock walked with purpose. He nodded to cadets who greeted him, but did not stop to converse with them. If he did, he would undoubtedly be late for the lecture that afternoon. All conversations were heard and considered irrelevant by the Vulcan, as most were gossip or idle talk, until one voice raised above the rest.

"What's got you so down Jimmyboy?" a man's jeering called out from the crowd of moving bodies.

Spock did not stop walking, as he wasn't the subject that was mentioned. He was also ready to dismiss it before another voice gave its reply.

"It's none of your business Finnegan." Another man's voice irritated and rushed but not as loud as the other man's, could be heard above the chatter.

Spock broke his stride and immediately stopped. He whipped his body around 180 degrees to see where the voices came from but all he saw was red. He heard laughter of a mocking sort moving farther and farther away. Nothing but mundane chatter remained. The source of the voice he was seeking was long gone with every passing second Spock scanned the crowd with his eyes. It was lost.

The Vulcan let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, blinked, and slowly turned back around. He ignored the curious eyes of the cadets and continued on his way. He did not hear the voice again.

* * *

It was after 1800 hours when Spock was finally finished with his last lecture for the day. He checked his PADD as his students rushed out of the lecture hall and noticed an email from Captain Pike. He opened it, briefly read its contents then closed the window and exited the PADD altogether. This would be the second time he was asked to see him since the second semester started. Often times, the requests were at night because of Pike's unusual and busy schedule. Spock wasn't one to complain, but he had other things to do as well.

The Vulcan put the meeting in the back of his mind and walked off the podium. He gave a slight glance at the hall to see if Uhura was coming down to see him, as she usually did have many questions, and saw that she really was heading towards him. So, he paused near the door, waiting for everyone to leave before Uhura came to a slow halt in front of him. She smiled a greeting at him.

"Cadet Uhura," Spock said nodding his head at her. "As usual, I assume you have a question for me today."

"As I always do," Uhura replied with a grin, "but I can't stay too long today. I've been really busy lately with my other courses and study groups. So, I was just wondering if you will have time at 2200 for a small tutorial with me."

As the woman spoke, Spock noticed she didn't sound as confident as she usually did. Her voice was slightly timid, but the Vulcan barely realized what it could mean. "I apologize, Cadet Uhura, but I have a meeting with Captain Pike at that hour."

"Oh." Her face, bright before, was now disappointed. She glanced away. "Well, that's alright," she said looking back. "I should've known you would be just as busy as the rest of us."

"But not that busy that I would refuse helping a student such as yourself," Spock said, automatically trying to ease Uhura. She didn't often ask for such tutorials, but Spock somehow knew it took her a lot of effort in asking. He could not reject such an attempt. "If I am correct and the meeting with Pike will last approximately two hours, then we can meet at 2400 if you are not opposed to that time."

Uhura immediately brightened. "I'm a student like every cadet here, and like all of them, I could always use the extra help before exam time. No, I wouldn't be opposed to meeting at 2400. I usually don't sleep until a few hours later anyways."

Spock nodded. "Very well, Cadet Uhura. Then I shall see you at the designated time and the usual place."

* * *

It was exactly seven minutes before 2200 when Spock began to climb only the first of four flights of stairs. It was the very same stairs he had take to get to Captain Pike's office earlier in the first term, but he was much more familiar with the route now. He learned from his commanding officer that this particular section of the building had faulty designs, so the way to his office was often confusing and difficult for people. There were no lifts of any sort, so the only access to the floors above was through stairs alone. Pike had even admitted once that he purposely chose that area for his office in order to deter the amount of people who wished to discuss matters with him. Spock didn't mind the strange route because, being the efficient Vulcan he was, he found a shortcut.

Due to the hour and the location, Spock did not come across anybody. He passed the same hallway he met the unusual cadet in and briefly paused before the towering display of windows. The sun had already set. Spock remembered the clatter of books, the wide smile, and the voice in the crowd. Turning his head away from the spectacle, he pushed the memory into the back of his mind, for he didn't want to remember disappointment, and continued down the hallway until he reached a door with the captain's name on it.

Unexpectedly, the door slid open before the Vulcan even had time to knock on it.

"Hello, Spock." Pike said without looking up. A series of PADDs were laid out in front of him. "On time as usual."

"Greetings, Captain," Spock said, entering the room. He looked about then moved towards a seat in front of the desk. Quietly, he placed himself in the chair; his hands folded on top of his lap. "You wished to discuss matters concerning the Enterprise?"

"Yes, but first," Pike put down the electronic pen he had in hand and gave Spock his full attention. Crinkles gathered around his eyes as he asked with a small smile, "I heard that you were dating a certain long-haired cadet."

Spock slightly arched one brow. "I do not know where you received that information, but I am not dating Cadet Uhura. She is strictly a student to me and a very excellent one at that."

Pike smiled at Spock who looked back with his usual blank eyes. "A student and a female?" he said in a suggestive manner. "I sometimes hear you go off alone wither her sometimes. What, on dates?"

Spock heard this before, in rumors passing around. Some were even vulgar. "I am familiar with the concept of dates, however, a tutorial does not fit the criteria," Spock said in all seriousness. "Furthermore, an intimate relationship with any cadet is prohibited by the Academy's regulations. It is unprofessional and illogical. I would never consider it."

Pike chuckled. "I'm sorry I even asked," he said leaning back. "I can't imagine you would ever be in a scandal."

"I take that as a compliment then," Spock said after a moment then adjusted his body to sit more comfortably. Apparently, the guest chairs were also designed to shorten their stay. "Captain, putting my private affairs aside, what is the reason you have asked me here today?"

Pike straightened up and handed out a PADD to Spock. The Vulcan took it into his hand as Pike began to talk simultaneously. "After this term ends, Starfleet has offered the Enterprise a five-year exploration mission. If you would like to continue to teach on Earth, you are free to do so. There are other qualified Science Officers that would be happy to take your place; however, if you are interested in this mission, you may join me."

_Amongst the stars…_

The words unconsciously entered Spock's mind. He had finished reading the file opened on the PADD before looking up at Pike's face. The decision was obvious. "As your Chief Science Officer, I would of course, join you Captain." Spock would not miss the opportunity for space exploration, let alone meet the one person who would define him. Or maybe he already did meet the person. Spock stared at Pike, waiting for him to continue.

Pike looked pleased as he took back the PADD and started talking about the specifics of the mission. As soon as the term ended and the results of the Kobayashi Maru were in, then they could expect to leave within the next two months if everything went according to plan. Spock actually looked forward to the mission, for he would no longer be grounded on Earth. As a Science Officer, he was interested in what discoveries he could make and analyze out in that vast void. There was a certain appeal about being on the field and experiencing the physical versus reading about it on a computer.

Then somewhere amongst their two hour long talk about the mission specifics and catching up, Pike asked Spock if he would attend the Kobayashi Maru testing.

"I have programmed the Kobayashi Maru but that does not require me to attend the testing sessions."

"You're right. You programmed it for the last four years, and no one has passed it," Pike said nodding his head, "but I thought you would be interested in a cadet that's going to be taking it a third time."

Spock was not amused. He took pride in his work, and if one cadet could not pass it, then why should he be interested? "You assume that I would be interested in such a cadet. For what reason?'

Pike wouldn't properly explain. "Just go to the Kobayashi Maru sessions if you have time. I'm sure you'll find a man there that you'll be interested in speaking to. He's come a long way since he joined the Academy a few years ago. It doesn't matter if he passes or not – that's not the point."

"If you insist, then I will go," Spock stated hesitantly. "Who is this man you speak of so highly?"

"Oh you'll find out," said Pike with a smile. "Actually, you might've heard about him or seen him around the Academy – a walking stack of books I hear."

Spock's automatic response would be to question such a description, but he was familiar with the personification. Only one person came to mind when Pike said those words, however, Spock reasoned it could be any other man as well. "I may have encountered… such a 'stack' in the previous semester, but I doubt he is the one you are referring to."

"Ah, so you've met Jim already?" Pike asked with a hint of surprise. "There's really only one man on campus running around with a stack of books. When did you meet and why didn't I know about it?"

The name flickered through Spock's mind again and again. _So that was the man's name_. "If you recall," Spock began, "I was late coming here once because of helping a certain cadet."

Pike nodded with recognition. "I should've known he was the one you were helping. He visits these libraries often. Actually, he might be the only one…so I'm not too surprised if you ran into him on the way here before."

Spock checked his communicator watch. It was a minute past 2400.

The Vulcan moved to stand up. "Captain, I apologize for the short notice, but there is another meeting I must attend."

"Alright," said Pike. "I need to finish all this paperwork."

Spock stared at the stack of PADDs on the man's desk and decided not to comment on the non-existent paper. "Then I take my leave, Captain."

"Don't forget to come to the Kobayashi Maru," Pike reminded.

Spock paused by the door. "Indeed I will. Good evening Captain Pike." And with that, Spock exited the room and entered into the moonlit halls.

He walked down the passage way, in no particular hurry as he stared straight ahead. Each swift step he took brought him closer to the library's entrance until he was finally upon it. He briefly looked at the wooden engraved doors and the old-fashioned metal knobs, waiting for something to happen. Not unusually, nothing did happen, so Spock turned away to look through the windows on the other side instead.

Darkness loomed over the horizon. The luminescence of all the lights from buildings, street lamps, the bridge, and hover vehicles could be seen in stark contrast to the darkness above. Beautiful as the city lights were, however, there were no stars visible. Light pollution was one of the things Spock found extremely disheartening about cities. No matter how awe-inspiring artificial lights were in the dark, Spock found he preferred the natural phenomena in the night sky much better. On Vulcan, he never had to look hard for the stars. When night came, he would look up and there they would be. Although on Earth, Spock found the stars would be outshined by the very city he would be studying in. To not see the stars unsettled him, as if he was denied a part of himself.

But, remembering his destination, Spock brought himself to move his legs and forget about the stars for the time being. He walked the rest of the way down the hallway until he reached the third floor. The windows here did not tower like the floor above, but it allowed moonlight in and it was enough. It was the same when Spock reached the second floor. He checked his communicator watch and realized he had to move more quickly, but not before he noticed the rapid footsteps heading his way. Spock was halfway rounding a corner, expecting he would find out soon who was running down this time of night, when he was halted right before completing the turn. Something hard crashed into his body, books fell to the floor, and a voice of frustration could be heard as the man behind the books immediately knelt down to pick them up.

Spock did not believe in luck or fate. He did, however, believe in coincidences.

The Vulcan could feel a slight tingle in his blood at the familiar voice and situation. He swiftly bent down as well and picked up the books the man neglected. "Cadet?" he said looking at the man's profile. The cropped hair, the facial structure – this was _the_ cadet.

Spock waited for the man to turn towards him, anticipated it, because this was the same person he had longed to see. Spock did not know why; it was an illogical desire, yet, he was not disappointed when he finally saw the man's face.

The look and sound of frustration on the cadet's features were quickly replaced with surprise. "Professor!" the man said standing up, nearly dropping all his books in the process. Spock raised a brow, gathered the remaining books on the floor and stood up. The Vulcan was amused by how easily distracted the man was. Most people reacted to him either apprehensively, offensively, or even defensively, save for a handful of people and Uhura, but this man was a special case.

_Jim_, Spock wanted to say but he thought it sounded wrong. While it was natural for him to know his students' names prior to speaking to them, this was a different situation entirely. He wanted to hear it from the man's own mouth – wanted the man to ask for his name and Spock wanted to ask his in turn.

"What are you doing here? It's the middle of the night – wait, don't tell me you have a hot midnight date too..!"

Spock looked skeptically at the man's choice of words and decided to comment on everything but the word 'date.' He voiced his assumption on the man's destination, in which must've triggered something in the cadet because he soon sprinted off after a few words and an apology. Spock called out to the man, trying not to say his name, but when he did not stop, Spock tightened his grip on the books in his hands and followed.

The cadet was a fast runner, but with each leg Spock stretched out in front of him again and again, he brought himself closer to the man (that and he also took the shortcut, being the efficient person he was). In all the years he had stayed on Earth, Spock had never truly run. Being the punctual and disciplined individual he was, Spock always planned ahead and calculated his time of arrival to meetings, lectures, and other such events so that in return, he would have no need to rush. It was a pace Spock was accustomed to. It was a pace he was comfortable with – a pace that did not consider spontaneity, such as this meeting with the cadet. And if Spock wanted to speak to the man, he had no choice but to run after him.

Based on the man's surprised reaction when Spock finally caught up and spoke to him, he did not even realize that Spock had been following him at all. They spoke little to each other as they reached the doors of the library and the man quickly logged his books back in. Spock did the same before he turned around, keeping a good distance from the man so that he could observe his slouched and fatigued figure. While Spock did not feel worn at all, he did wonder why his heart was beating slightly faster than usual. He couldn't estimate the exact beats per minute because by the time they exchanged a couple of words and the man straightened himself back up, Spock's heart returned to normal.

"Thanking is illogical? Well, I've never heard of that before. Then what about helping, Professor?" the man asked with an amused grin.

"Helping was logical," Spock answered with ease. "I intended to inquire from you the reason of your study methods. And as it is undetermined whether or not I will meet you again, I took the opportunity given to me."

Spock momentarily paused in thought. A lie. His last sentence was a complete lie. Spock knew exactly when he would meet the cadet again, yet he didn't know why he obscured his words to make it seem like he wouldn't.

The cadet looked surprise, stared at the library doors and then back at Spock. "You mean using books to study? You ran after me just so you could ask me about that?"

Spock didn't think it was so unusual and explained as such. He watched with interest as the man's sceptical face turned to one of amusement once more. The Vulcan realized he had never met an individual who could smile with such vigour and sincerity as this man did. It was oddly pleasant.

"It's personal preference, Professor. I like the physical object itself rather than the electronic versions, despite the inefficiencies. It's nostalgic." The last sentence was said with reluctance. "I got the habit from my mother."

"Is that so…" the Vulcan murmured, glancing away momentarily. He could identify with this new piece of information. Spock himself formed an odd ritual of a sort under the influence of his own mother, which he carried to Earth. He recalled some of them with fondness before facing the cadet. "I am familiar with habits, illogical as they are."

The man smiled again. Spock, for the life of him, couldn't fathom why.

Then when the man asked if Spock was satisfied with his answer, Spock responded with a slight bow of his head, his hands still behind his back. "Yes, your answer is quite satisfactory. I apologize if I have kept you from any prior arrangements you may have."

When the cadet shook his head and smiled once more, Spock was seriously wondering if smiling too much would become detrimental to the man if he persisted. "No, it's not a problem at all, Professor. I appreciated your assistance."

"Very well, then I must take my leave as I am late." _Eight minutes too late_, Spock thought automatically turning to walk away.

"Ah, sorry for holding you back," the man said walking with him. "Since there's no other way down except for the one way we came up, I hope you don't mind if we walk down together."

Despite being late already, Spock realized he did not mind in the slightest.

In the few minutes that Spock spent with the man, he managed not to say the man's name and by the time they reached the first level, Spock learned that the cadet was on his third year in the Command Route at the Academy and intent on becoming an officer by the end of the semester. He had more than enough credits as well as extra-curricular activities and recommendations that made up for not taking the fourth year. All that was left was to try to pass the Kobayashi Maru, for the third time, as Spock already knew, but he deliberately left that out of the conversation. Overall though, Spock was impressed by this man. He was ambitious, intelligent, and stubborn no doubt, but also _extremely_ social based on the many recommendations he received.

"Enough about me," the cadet said as they exited the building. "You haven't said a thing about yourself." At that moment though, Spock stopped walking and faced the man, intending on parting ways then.

"You are correct. Unfortunately though, I must depart now," said Spock with an indifferent face. "I am already late enough as it is."

"Oh, sorry," said the cadet rubbing his neck, "you didn't seem to be in a hurry. I didn't mean to hold you back though. It's just, I don't know when I'll see you again – "

"Despite the size of this academy, we have already met twice have we not?" Spock stated, fixing his eyes on the man. Under the mix of moonlight and street lamps, Spock saw undeniable eagerness on the cadet's face. It reflected the Vulcan's own unconscious desire. Spock decided then he would right his mistake from earlier. "Rest assured," Spock said with a blink, "if we can meet twice, we will meet a third time as well."

The man's eyes did not waver. "What makes you so sure?"

Spock raised a brow. "Anything that can happen, will happen."

Lips twitched as it expanded across an amused face. "Murphy's Law."

Spock nodded his head. "Good evening Cadet," he said and walked away.

_Twenty-one_, thought Spock. That was the number of times the man smiled.

* * *

"If you're truly sorry for being late," Uhura said sternly after Spock apologized for the third time, "then you have to raise my grade by a couple marks. And how many times do I have to tell you to call me Nyota if we're not in the classroom."

Spock lifted a brow by a few millimetres. "You are already the top of my class, Nyota, and raising your mark would be amoral on my part as a professor. I cannot. Do you have another means in which I can appease you by?"

"I wasn't serious, Spock," said Uhura smiling and leaning over the table with her elbows on the surface. "So, come over to my Kobayashi Maru trial in the upcoming week instead. I'd like some insight on my performance."

Spock liked this suggestion much better. "What is your position?"

"Communications Officer."

"Then who will be the acting captain?"

"Just this man, who's already failed it twice," Uhura began nonchalantly. "I doubt he'll make it a third time though –"

"You are acquainted with Jim?"

Uhura froze after being interrupted. She looked sharply at Spock. "You know Kirk?"

"Jim Kirk?"

"James _Tiberius_ Kirk," Uhura corrected straightening with disbelief. "How did you meet him?"

Spock mulled over the name for the second time that evening. "I met him months prior and I was helping him before I came here," Spock answered.

"He's the reason you're late?" Uhura said with a frown, clearly upset.

"You are not on good terms with Cadet Kirk?" Spock asked after a moment.

Uhura shrugged. "You know the guy I told you about, the one who always keeps asking for my first name?" Spock nodded. "Yeah, that's Kirk, the same Kirk who's been trying to ask me out for three years already. He's annoying at best."

Spock did not have that impression at all and was about to state so, but Uhura diverted his attention to the promised tutorial. It was 0100 by the time they finished their session, in which Uhura left with a better mood and Spock left with many questions, despite answering many that evening.

As promised to Pike and Uhura, and for his own personal interest, Spock attended the Kobayashi Maru the following week. He saw two cadets fail that day and mentally commended their efforts. However, when Kirk unexpectedly saved the civilian ship and destroyed all the Klingon Warbirds, Spock was baffled. After checking the simulation program that same hour, Spock realized the program had been altered.

When Spock roughly leaned back against his swivel chair, he felt an emotion he had not felt since his days on Vulcan.

Spock was furious.


	5. Confrontation

_A/N: Well, here's the fifth chapter. Since university started for me a week ago, it will take me longer than usual to update, not that I had a schedule anyways…so here we are. This chapter goes through the Kobayashi Maru and the court hearing in the movie, and I tried not to write word to word what was said, despite those two parts being my one of my favourite scenes in the movie. _

Warp 5: Confrontation

The room was dim and warm as Jim pressed his waist against the body below him. He could hear chatter filter in through the room door, low and subtle, and took no heed. Adrenaline rushed through him while the blood in his head left to other preferable places. It travelled all the way to his limbs, warming his fingers, his toes, and even his groin. Jim then leaned down to roughly take the lips that hung open with his own.

Jim was doing this for only one reason. He was desperate – there was only one day left and a tonne of pressure was on him. He wanted to have something impressive and new to say when he met the Vulcan again. He also wanted to prove to Pike and his peers that he was a serious about being an officer in three years. Besides, it's not that he didn't enjoy the warmth of the supple and willing body of the woman he was proverbially rolling in the hay with, no; Jim enjoyed that part very much. He just felt slightly guilty that he was using her for another purpose that had nothing to do with their current activities.

When Jim met Gaila not only a few days ago, he didn't expect to sleep with her. He just assumed his naturally awesome charm would penetrate her and she would gush out the answers he needed, but that was simply not the case. It seemed she had a charm of her own that pulled _him_ towards _her_. Jim, being the clever man he was though, made it work to his advantage. Within seven minutes of foreplay and subliminal suggestions, Jim got what he wanted. He was on a roll and now he was just going to revel in it.

"Jim, I think I love you," Gaila breathed out when their lips broke apart.

There were three words in a specific combination that Jim developed a disliking to for a very good reason. They caused trouble and pain and most of the time was said in the heat of the moment. Thus, those three very overrated words became less significant to Jim. He heard it as insincerity.

"That is so weird," Jim stated bluntly, frozen in place. Of all the things Jim expected to hear, such as the gasp or moans of him giving pleasure to her, Jim did not expect that one. It was "weird" to claim you love someone especially when you met them only a few days ago. It was also "weird" to claim you love someone when you specifically told them you were only going to have a one night stand with them. To claim you love someone in such a short amount of time? Bullshit. Jim "fell in love" at first sight before countless times and it never did him any good, but he always ended up in the same situation. Lastly, it was definitely weird how he thought about a certain pointed-ear being.

Predictably, Gaila ordered the lights on. The look on her face told Jim she was not happy and when she questioned him, Jim felt his arousal disappear. Having sex was easy. Emotional confrontation was not, especially the romantic kind. How could Jim express that he did not feel the same way without offending the woman? And not only that, but that he was thinking of someone else? In this day and age, Jim was not discriminating that she was green or even Orion. Jim was all for interspecies relations and everything (save for a few exceptions regarding the illegal trade of them, especially children). The problem was not Jim's partner. It was himself because he would not commit.

There was no time or argument, however, when they heard Uhura's voice calling from the other side. Despite Jim not being ashamed about his appearance, he ended up hiding beneath Gaila's bed as she demanded. Jim didn't mind, he wasn't up to face Uhura at the moment anyways. Conversation carried about above him.

Jim heard something of interest… _a transmission from a Klingon prison planet, huh._

Beneath the bed though, Jim could not concentrate. He found it disturbing that he wasn't the first man to be in the room, or maybe even the last. Jim twitched his nose. What was also disturbing was the odor surrounding him. One glance around him pretty much told Jim where it was coming from. There were scattered shoes, forgotten socks, moulding food, and – was that a leftover condom? Jim blinked. _Condoms_.

"Who's who?" Jim could hear Gaila ask innocently.

"The mouth-breather hiding beneath your bed," Uhura answered annoyed.

_Well_, Jim thought, _that's my cue_, and quickly crawled out, glad to be free. That was the last time Jim would think women were cleaner than men. They could be as equally disgusting. "You can hear me breathing?" Jim asked with incredulity. Of course that was impossible, but Jim was trying to get by Uhura with his balls intact.

"_You!_" the long-haired woman accused. She rushed at him as Jim slipped by her, covering his groin.

These days, Jim didn't know why but his friendship with Uhura was rocky at best. Since her "hot midnight date," her patience with him grew thin. It was strange. Uhura usually knew how to deal with jerks and harassment with style, but Jim found her tolerance towards him lately had turned a flat zero.

_What did I do anyways?_ Jim thought as he tried to distract her and ask about the Klingon prison planet transmission. He was genuinely interested with that information, since it sounded relevant, but Uhura ignored him and chose to retort instead.

Jim ended up being on the other side of the door. The last image he saw was Uhura's angry expression, which Jim half-smiled to, despite not wanting to smile at all. He tried to keep a light-hearted attitude. Then he was facing a closed door and Jim turned cold.

Not being one to sulk, Jim didn't waste time standing still. He hastily pulled on his red uniform pants as he walked. He stumbled, picked himself up, and roughly pulled the rest of his uniform over his head.

Ignoring all the stares his actions attracted, Jim strolled down the dormitory hallway without breaking a stride. He had a program to hack and a Vulcan to impress.

0000000000

"Jim, Jim!" McCoy called out grabbing his friend by the arm.

Jim stopped walking and turned around to look at the man's concerned face. "Bones, the test is gonna start in a few minutes."

"I know that!" McCoy stated gruffly letting go of Jim. "I'm taking the same test as you!" He quickly reached into his bag and pulled a red organic object out.

Jim eyed the piece of fruit and quickly backed off. "No. No way, Bones! I'm not eating that before the test! There's going to be stuff stuck in my teeth!"

McCoy tossed the apple to Jim who caught it with a little hesitation. "That's what's flossing for, genius! Besides, an apple a day will keep at least me away," McCoy said gruffly walking to Jim with an annoyed expression now. "You haven't been eating well lately. I know you skipped lunch so eat this. An apple's the best I can do for now, since I just grabbed it from the nearest campus organic booth." McCoy muttered as the two friends began to walk down the hallway. "They really should place them in more convenient places. I had to detour to get to one before coming here…"

Jim tucked the apple away as he smiled, "Aw, thanks Bones!" Jim said throwing an arm over the man's shoulders and patting him. "Now I'm definitely gonna pass the test!"

0000000000

"We are receiving a distress signal from the U.S.S. Kobayashi Maru. The ship has lost power and is stranded," Uhura informed sardonically. "Starfleet Command has ordered us to rescue them."

Since the start of the test, even prior to it, Jim had noted that Uhura was even more annoyed than usual. She kept glaring at him, and now she was even mocking him during the examination. Jim leaned on the command chair's left arm and met Uhura's piercing eyes. He didn't know what the hell was wrong with her, but Jim would not tolerate his authority being questioned or mocked in such a situation, even if he was being arrogant, or even if he liked Uhura.

"Starfleet has ordered us to rescue them…_Captain_," Jim corrected with a smirk, swivelling away so his eyes were on the simulationscreen.

Sitting comfortably in his command chair, Jim kept a confident face and listened to everyone around him. Despite Klingon warbirds beginning to fire on their starship, Jim ordered Uhura to alert Medical Bay. She did so with contempt as McCoy stated that their shields were now down to sixty percent. There was no way his hours of toiling away last night was going to waste.; there was definitely no way he was going to desert the Kobayashi Maru either. Jim would save them without breaking the Organian Peace Treaty and destroy the Klingon warbirds. He knew it was overly ambitious and he had failed two times before trying, but – Jim grinned. _Third time's the charm_, Jim thought. He just needed to wait for the right opportunity.

"I understand," said Jim nonchalantly, leaning firmly back into his chair. Something hard pressed against his thigh as he did so. He glanced down taken back, and reached for the red item.

McCoy spoke with exasperation, saying they should fire back, but Jim disagreed and bit into the apple he had forgotten to eat earlier. He felt hungry now that he remembered about it, but Jim also knew that he was just feeding his ego by eating now. Jim didn't care though. He was going to kill this test.

Then suddenly, the simulation room went dark. Machines that were running could be heard powering down and confused murmurs broke out, but Jim remained calm. Not three seconds passed, however, before the machines turned back on and the original lighting was restored. Smirking, Jim leaned forward. This was it. "Arm photons. Prepare to fire on the Klingon warbirds."

Only McCoy would disagree. "Jim, their shields are still up!"

And only McCoy could get away with calling Jim his name in such a situation. "Are they?" Jim questioned.

When McCoy confirmed that the Klingons' shields were, in fact, not on at all, Jim delivered the firing order. "One photon per ship," Jim specified as an afterthought. "Let's not waste ammunition."

Without anymore hesitation or questioning from the bridge members, Jim's orders were executed. He watched as all the Klingon warbirds were destroyed on the screen, even going as far as targeting them with a finger pistol.

As the simulation came to an end, Jim gave a final order to rescue the Kobayashi Maru crew before Jim stood up from his chair. He glanced around the bridge with a grin and summarized the situation with swagger. Jim felt elated, accomplished. In response, he received mixed expressions varying between disbelief and relief. Jim expected as much. Then he turned his attention to the hidden authorities, behind the tinted windows above the simulation room, with as much as arrogance as he addressed his crew.

Despite being underestimated and overshadowed by his father's name, Jim strived to be unlike his father. Jim strived to be better, but if there was one thing they had in common, it was that Jim didn't believe in no-win scenarios. He wouldn't let the Kobayashi Maru become his last obstacle.

As if sending the administrators a message, Jim sunk his teeth into the apple and tore off its flesh.

0000000000

Later that night, Jim sat on his bed, leaning against the wall as his legs were stretched out before him. He ordered the lights to be at forty percent. The computer repeated his order as it dimmed down the lighting. Jim sighed. Unexpectedly, the test took a lot out of Jim. During the simulation, he was one-hundred percent alert and excited. People congratulated him while others gave him suspicious looks, especially the administrators and Uhura. Jim wriggled his toes. All that he needed to do was wait for the results to come in the next day. The administration notified him that they would give him the result after their programmer double-checked the Kobayashi Maru simulation.

"You know," said McCoy sitting on the edge of Jim's bed, "Everyone had their doubts before you entered the simulation, but for damn sure they will have doubts now." He fixed his eyes on Jim who smiled lazily at him.

"Hey, it's over Bones," said Jim shrugging. "I beat the test and it's all thanks to that apple of yours."

"The apple did squat," McCoy retorted. "It just fed your ego. I can't believe you ate it during the simulation! How arrogant can you be?"

"It's brain food," Jim replied lying flat down on his bed. His legs stretched behind his friend's form. "You yourself recommended it to me. And I had to floss my teeth afterwards…"

McCoy stared hard at the figure laying innocently on the bed. He shook his head. "I don't know how you did it, Jim. Whether it was those late nights studying or hanging around Gaila, but I doubt how you beat the test was even legal."

It didn't matter whether or not it was legal. That wasn't the point. Jim pushed himself up so his torso faced his friend. "Look Bones, I found an unorthodox way of beating the Kobayashi Maru, which no one has done."

"The Kobayashi Maru was programmed to be unwinnable," McCoy stated roughly, his eyes not leaving Jim's. "There will be points in life where winning is not the point and you have to accept it, Jim!"

"There are always alternatives," Jim countered firmly. "I can't think like we can't win – "

"Don't think about _winning_," McCoy interrupted. "That's the kind of attitude that brings about war. It's the kind of attitude that's going to get you into trouble!"

Jim thought it was odd how McCoy was more serious than usual and he finally understood why. "I'm…sorry if I worried you, Bones," Jim murmured easing away from McCoy's face. "It's just that whenever I tried to save the ship without breaking the Organian Peace Treaty and endangering everyone's lives, I couldn't. It was impossible. It was frustrating. I have never felt so helpless. You have no idea how many nights I stayed up just thinking about it after the first time I failed."

It was true. Jim had nightmares thinking about the simulation, but he refused that he could not find another solution. He refused to believe that if some other course of action had been taken the day of his birth, his father would be here today.

With Jim's voice less at edge, McCoy's also softened his. "I know. I was there Jim," he said patting his friend's shoulder. "I just don't want you getting into serious trouble with the administration. It could affect your future career as a Starfleet officer."

Feeling more appreciative, Jim patted the hand that rested on his shoulders. "You worry too much, Bones," Jim smiled. "You did good today by the way."

McCoy sighed as he withdrew his hand and shook his head with a small chuckle. "All I did was question your orders. You were driving everyone crazy with your attitude."

"I did, didn't I?" Jim said with a grin.

"Especially Uhura," McCoy realized raising a brow at his friend. "What the hell did you do to her to get her that upset? Besides the fact that you exist?"

"Ouch, Bones," Jim said between a small smile, but then he turned serious. "Actually, I have no idea either."

"Well, maybe we'll see tomorrow." McCoy patted Jim's lower leg and heaved himself up. "I don't know about you Jim, but I'm _tired_." A yawn and a stretch demonstrated his fatigue.

Jim agreed.

Throwing his blanket over himself, he said goodnight to McCoy, waited for him to call the lights off, and then closed his eyes.

0000000000

"What did I tell you, Jim?" McCoy muttered beside him as they took a seat amongst the thousand other cadets. "They called for a hearing and I think I can guess why."

"Calm down, Bones," Jim muttered back, adjusting to his seat and looking around anxiously. "We don't know if it's actually about the Kobayashi Maru."

Eight minutes after everyone settled down into their seats, the reason for the hearing was established and Jim was called down to the stands. He couldn't believe it. Once he reached the stand at the bottom, Jim wanted to know just who the hell called him out on this. When he got the chance, he asked to face his accuser.

In Jim's peripheral vision, he saw someone amongst the red stand up all clad in black. He turned his head to see who it was – and wished he hadn't. The figure walking down the stairs was the very Vulcan he had been anticipating to see for some time. Jim looked away.

_Third time's the charm my ass._ Jim recalled his friend's words with bitterness.

"This is Commander Spock. He is one of our most distinguished graduates. He's programmed the Kobayashi Maru exam for the last four years," stated Admiral Barnett. "Commander?".

Jim didn't want to look at the Vulcan. He wanted to be able to ask for the Vulcan's name himself, not hear it from another person's mouth. _Spock_. The name rolled around in Jim's head, but he just couldn't enjoy it. The moment was spoiled for when Jim looked back at the Commander, cold eyes met his.

"Cadet Kirk," the Commander said facing Jim with hands behind his back, "you somehow managed to install and activate a subroutine in the programming code, thereby changing the conditions of the test."

Whatever Jim hoped their third meeting would be like, he scrapped it in favour of steeling his nerves. The conversation lying ahead was not going to be pretty.

"Your point being?" Jim asked.

Admiral Barneet clarified. "In academic vernacular, you cheated."

And then it was all downhill from there.

By the time the court was halted, due to Vulcan's distress call, Jim could feel his blood burning. Even his hands were shaking, but it was done. Spock attacked Jim's weakness like he had a vendetta, and no matter how hard Jim tried to appear strong, defensively acting confident, Jim could still feel the twinge in his chest. For once in his life, he would like to be judged by not who his father was, but who he was. His father was dead. Jim was still alive – can no one remind him of that?

As a result, Jim was no longer infatuated with the pointy-eared figure, because Jim found that this cold, griping, and calculative Vulcan was not the same Vulcan who spoke to him with amusement and light in his eyes. No, Jim didn't know the Vulcan that stood before him in court today. As Jim exited with McCoy, he wondered if he wanted to at all.

0000000000

Cadets rushed to their assigned shuttlecrafts as announcements were made to notify take-off time. Anyone in red had somewhere to go – anyone but Jim, who stood at a loss amongst the moving mass. McCoy, however, was allocated to the USS Enterprise, the starship that Jim hoped to be on one day.

In all honesty, Jim was truly disappointed and envious, but he congratulated his friend with as much sincerity as he could muster in his weakened state. He hadn't even watch McCoy leave, too troubled by the conversation he had with his friend last night.

_This is karma_, Jim thought exhaling a breath. He didn't know what to do. He had been studying for three years to become an officer. Now that the opportunity was right in front of him, Jim couldn't take it. He was on academic probation. There was nothing he could do. Everyone was leaving him behind. Was he truly a failure everyone saw him as?

Out of the blue, Jim felt a hand grasp his arm and pulled him back. "What are you doing?" Jim asked confused once he saw McCoy. He allowed his friend to drag him away without any resistance.

At this rate, anyone could have taken advantage of him but McCoy's voice was enough to bring Jim out of his slump. "I'm doing you a favour," McCoy stated pulling him towards a chair. They narrowly missed colliding into other cadets. "I couldn't just leave you looking all pathetic. Take a seat. I'm gonna give you a vaccine against viral infection from Melvaren mud fleas."

By the time Jim was injected and cleared to enter the shuttlecraft, he wasn't sure if he wanted to kiss the man, or punch his lights out. However, Jim couldn't do either for his body was not his own anymore He developed a headache, he was hot, and he was drowsy. Jim barely registered McCoy lifting him up onto a biobed before he collapsed, unconscious.


	6. Explosions and Promotions

_A/N: Sorry for the super late update! I have no excuse if you can forgive me. Thanks for the favs and follows so far everyone!_

_Also, I realize how boring my chapter titles are, since I'm horrible at making up titles. However, I will try to make it more relevant and exciting. You will see that I skipped a lot of scenes. This is for the sake of decreasing repetition and moving the story along. I honestly can't wait until I finish getting past the movie…there is so much more to write._

Warp Factor 6: Promotions and Explosions

Uhura, out of her great knowledge and fluency of all Romulan dialects, was quickly promoted to bridge communication officer. It was this skill of hers that confirmed Kirk's statement about the Romulan transmission, therefore confirming that there would be a threat of some kind upon arriving at Vulcan.

To see her being acknowledged by Captain Pike made Spock proud, but to know that Kirk was right was a different matter altogether. He didn't like the way the cadet, who had cheated his Kobayashi Maru program, show up on the bridge unannounced, especially when Spock made sure the man would be on academic probation. But there he was, convincing Captain Pike they were in evitable and approaching danger.

Kirk had not screamd to be overheard, despite the people questioning his presence and his statement. He had stood his ground against the authority that was Spock and Captain Pike, firmly reinstating his belief with evidence and background history. His face had already been set, determined, challenging the ones he spoke with to say otherwise about their situation. Spock didn't want to agree with Kirk—didn't want to accept him for Kirk reminded Spock of his Vulcan peers who had once provoked him. But when Captain Pike gave way and ordered the ship's shields to go up, the Vulcan's displeasure with the cadet overwhelmed his pride with Uhura in a split second.

In an attempt to not let the emotion distract him so, turned to the front and saw the man in place of Ensign McKenna, who was ill. Sulu, the new helmsman that Spock thought was too inexperienced to be piloting the starship, began a countdown. "Dropping out of Warp in three…two…one."

Too distracted by Kirk's presence, but still worried about the reason behind Vulcan's distress call, Spock was not ready to see the debris and explosions everywhere. It was not difficult, however, to discern what the situation was based on the seven starships that were sent ahead of them. They were now in ruins. A massive ship with menacing tentacles filled their vision.

Despite inexperience being a common aspect amongst the majority of crew members and despite the dire situation, Spock saw that they were indeed Starfleet cadets and _very_ capable. They did not need to be told twice what to do. Everyone on the bridge sprung into action.

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Spock was uneasy. The state of Vulcan was deteriorating and the Enterprise was on red alert. The Romulan, calling himself Nero, demanded Captain Pike to board their ship, the Narada, but it had to be through shuttlecraft. Because of the massive drill that was putting a hole in Vulcan, any communication with the planet was blocked. Even the transporter beams were rendered dysfunctional. Spock followed Pike into the shuttlecraft hanger, unsure of how to proceed in his absence, and too worried about his planet. He was too stubborn, however, to show any signs of this.

"Mr Spock," said Pike as he walked briskly past a few crewman, "I'm leaving you in command of the Enterprise. Once we have transport capability and communications back up, you'll contact Starfleet and report what the hell's going on here." Spock was listening but this was all a little too much. "And if all else fails," Pike continued, "fall back, rendezvous with the fleet in the Laurentian system." Pike stopped, turned around and looked at the cadet that was following alongside Spock. The Vulcan looked between them for less than a second before the impossible happened. "Kirk, I'm promoting you to First Officer."

Any anxiousness that was present in Spock vanished as Kirk gave Pike a hard look, as if he had heard him wrong. He voiced just so.

"Captain?" Spock was also confused, if slightly frustrated as well. "Please, I apologize. The complexities of human pranks escape me."

Pike confirmed the worst of Spock's thoughts. It was not a prank. "And I'm not the captain," said Pike, giving Spock a look of confidence. "You are."

For a moment, Spock was taken back. People were really being promoted left and right but Spock didn't think he would ever be captain so soon. He definitely did not want to be if at the cost of Pike's death. Feeling unsure once more, Spock took a while to react until he saw that Kirk was glaring at him. And just like that, Spock returned to reality. In front of this man, he did not want to appear weak and indecisive. He was in control, so he himself will have to be. There was no time to waste. Spock returned to the bridge after acknowledging Pike's plan to destroy the drill.

Sitting in the captain's chair, with the job of doing nothing but wait, Spock was restless in an instant. He checked in with sickbay. The Enterprise did receive severe casualties after all. "Dr Puri, report," Spock commanded, but to his surprise, an unfamiliar voice responded instead.

"It's McCoy. Dr Puri was on deck 6," the man roughly informed. Spock could hear the chaos from the other line. "He's dead."

Spock knew Dr Puri, but he did not have time to grieve for the loss of another officer. He was captain—there was no time for personal reflection. Their current situation must be dealt with efficiently and swiftly. "Then you have just inherited his responsibility as Chief Medical Officer," the Vulcan stated.

"Yeah," said the voice on the other side. Spock heard some more shouting in the background. "Tell me something I _don't _know!" And with that, the intercom was disconnected.

Spock raised a brow at the man's tone of voice and abrupt rudeness. He paid it no more heed than he would a hangnail on his finger. Turning towards the screen, he watched Pike's life frequency monitor and listened to the drill team's progress.

Waiting and watching…Spock never felt so useless.

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Noise filled his ears with the whistling of particles. He could feel the tingle of his body parts reassembling, as if static was crackling over his skin, reattaching his particles one by one. His feet felt solid ground, but his hand was empty. At the last second, it had extended intending to reach out for another's. But he hadn't been quick enough, his fingers and arms hadn't been long enough.

Now there was nothing.

Spock stepped off the transporter pad, one foot at a time, each of them feeling as if it weighed a tonne. He couldn't think cohesively. He felt cold and his palms felt stiff. There was something missing in him, torn from him; never to be returned. Shaking, he tried to breathe in and out to calm himself. It was difficult.

More than ten minutes ago, Spock didn't know how long exactly, he had transported on to Vulcan. He hadn't given the away team a second glance when they returned successful, too intent on reaching the surface of the planet. He had been done with waiting.

Although Spock returned with the majority of the High Council, one crucial and unfortunate being had been left behind. His mother. Like six billion inhabitants of Vulcan and the planet itself, they were now all dead. The gaping hole in his heart was what she left him with—equal to the empty space where his home once stood.

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"What do you need?" Uhura asked quietly, tightening her arms around him. "Tell me." Spock could feel her slender hands on holding his face, peering into him with anxiousness. Spock did not know what he needed, but he knew he _wanted._ "Tell me," she repeated.

Through the woman's embrace, Spock could feel her warmth seep through his clothes and permeate his skin. It was comforting—he did not know what made Uhura approach him in such a way, but apparently the rumours from the academy were true. She liked him. All her advances, the tutorials she asked for, and the late night meetings. They all made sense. To a certain extent, the Vulcan knew about her feelings. He had chosen to ignore it in favour of his professional position, even though he felt attracted towards her. But that had been then and this was now. Spock appreciated Uhura's efforts in trying to console him. Her emotions meddled with his, distracting him from his grief, and it took a while for Spock to formulate an answer. It needed to be appropriate to the situation, logically since he was the captain, yet, Spock wanted to do nothing more than lean into Uhura more.

"I need everyone to continue performing admirably," Spock managed with difficulty. Yes, that was his reality. His planet and his mother were dead but Spock was still captain. He, more than anyone else, needed to perform admirably. He could not afford to be human now.

With those words being spoken, Spock pushed a button to his side and the turbolift began moving once more. Uhura only nodded her head, looking somewhat disappointed, Spock wasn't too sure, but she leaned in towards him and kissed him again. Spock didn't know if it was his fragile state of mind or his actual desire for her, but the Vulcan kissed back, relishing the warmth and comfort that lessened the pain in his heart—even though he deserved that pain.

When the doors slid open, Spock turned away from her and put his human half behind him.

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"There won't _be_ a next engagement," Kirk argued walking around the bridge. Spock did not need this now. "By the time we've 'gathered,' it'll be too late!" the man reasoned giving Spock a look. Since Spock had returned to the bridge, he found it unavoidable debating with his new First Officer. "But you say he's from the future—knows what's gonna happen? Then the logical thing is to be unpredictable!"

Spock thought that the words "logical" and "unpredictable" should not belong in the same sentence, as they were juxtapositions, but the Vulcan pointed out instead that Nero had already changed the flow of events in their timeline. From the moment the Narada had destroyed the USS Kelvin in the past, their futures had already been altered. No one can predict the next chain of events—not even their enemy.

"An alternate reality," Uhura voiced, and Spock was glad for her input. That was exactly what he was thinking.

"Precisely," Spock confirmed, "Whatever our lives might have been, if the time continuum was disrupted, our destinies have changed." However, despite being captain, Spock found that he was continuously being undermined.

Kirk still refused to regroup with Starfleet. It seemed to Spock that no matter how many words were exchanged between the two, they would not come to an agreement. Spock knew that it wasn't the man's place to make decisions. Even if the human was correct about Nero's attack, that did not mean he would be correct once more.

In combination with his suppressed grief and annoyance, Spock felt irritable towards Kirk. He did not like how a cadet was promoted First Officer when the man did not have enough experience as such. Even Spock himself had been uncertain about his own command position when Pike handed it over to him, but now that his home planet was destroyed, Spock was sure about his decisions. The Enterprise would regroup with the rest of Starfleet vessels and deal with Nero together; that way, Spock wouldn't be tempted to go after Nero himself and exert inappropriate violent—

But Spock had enough of Kirk's rebellious attitude. Placing a hand on the man's shoulder, he gave a tight squeeze and ignored the jolt of emotions that passed through him. Once the man fell unconscious to the floor, Spock immediately ordered his jettison.

As Spock watched the security guards remove his body from the bridge, Spock had to stop his hands from shaking behind him. He did not like the emotions that flowed through the man. They mirrored his exactly, and Spock did not want to acknowledge it. Unlike himself, Spock knew intuitively that Kirk was exactly the type to act upon his feelings. Logically, if he did not send the man away now, Kirk would definitely awake and defy Spock once more, putting the ship and Earth in potential danger. Spock could not take the risk any more.

The farther Kirk was the safer—for the both of them.

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All had been good. However, not even three hours had passed before one familiar man and an unfamiliar one entered the bridge. Spock stood from his chair, unable to believe his eyes, but there was solid evidence of the First Officer that he had marooned only hours before. There was a hard edge to the man's face, unlike the other expressions he had shown to Spock during their arguments. Something had changed. Spock did not know what, but he was not interested in finding out. What Spock was interested in was how the two even managed to beam aboard the ship at warp speed.

He demanded an answer from Kirk. Unsurprisingly, the man was wayward with his answer. At the same time that irritation flitted through Spock, the Vulcan also knew that something was wrong. The Kirk he knew so far knew how to argue against him, providing evidence or just pure speculation and will power. This man was deliberately withholding information from him with an attitude to boot. Compared to the man now, Spock preferred the Kirk from the hearing.

"What now, that doesn't frustrate you, does it?" Kirk asked mockingly raising his brows. "My lack of cooperation? That, that doesn't make you angry—"

Wanting to seethe, Spock turned to the other man beside Kirk and focused his attention on the wet person instead. As calmly as he could while ignoring Kirk, Spock turned his questioning to the unfamiliar face. The irritation, however, only escalated from there. Kirk would not allow the wet man to talk and Spock was not getting any answers. How many times did this man have to undermine his authority, especially at a time like this?

But that did not matter now, because their argument was going in a different direction.

"Step away from me, Mr Kirk," Spock warned when the man brought himself closer. He could feel it. Anger unbridled crawled from his side towards his brain, infecting it with every word that was punctuated from Kirk's mouth. The man who stood in front him was reminiscent of his Vulcan peers as a child. They had been bullies trying to make him reveal his human side, which was apparently anger. And now this man, Spock realized, was trying to do the same thing—illicit an emotional response from him. Spock should have known better, but the Vulcan did not know until it was too late. Kirk crossed the line that no had ever done.

"You _NEVER_ loved her!"

There was no greater insult in the world and Kirk drove that stake straight into Spock's heart. The Vulcan had already been guilty enough with being unable to save his mother, but grief combined with frustration and anger without an outlet made Spock unleash his rage upon Kirk. Because it was true—he never did tell her he loved her. Not in all the years that she raised him, and not even on that day he turned down admittance to the Vulcan Science Academy, did three specific words ever leave the Vulcan's mouth. His knew his mother loved him unconditionally, yet he could never be the son that she wanted. Spock felt deep regret for having not spoken those words, and now he would never have the chance again.

The realization was too much for the Vulcan. Before he knew it, Spock's fist connected with the offending man's face, knocking him back. Logic was thrown aside in favour of emotional appeasement and physical force. Spock wanted to hurt Kirk, he did hurt Kirk, and never in his life had the Vulcan wanted to kill someone.

Fists flew and Spock ignored the impact on his knuckles, as well as every logical and compassionate thought that tried to break through his rage filled mind. Everything he did seem to be a blur; he could not hear anyone—he _would_ not hear anyone. His hand wrapped around the man's neck, willing him to suffocate under his glare as well. Nothing but anger and sorrow pumped through the Vulcan, fueling him on his attempt to kill Kirk. Even staring directly into the human's pained and desperate eyes gave the Vulcan no qualm. Despite beating the man, however, Spock did not feel better—not until he had closed his fingers around the man's neck did he faintly feel _something_.

"Spock," a stern voice called out.

But that something was enough. Spock felt that he was holding fire now, one that was endothermic because Kirk's skin seemed to absorb all the heat from his fingertips, leaving them numb. Oddly, his heart slowed down as well and Spock suddenly felt drained from the whole ordeal. His breath was haggard as he stared down at Kirk. Registering the voice that belonged to his father, Spock slowly released Kirk from his grip, suddenly feeling appalled by his own actions.

Dazed, Spock turned away from Kirk, who coughed like mad, and faced his father and Uhura. His breathing was laboured now that he wasn't angry. He felt only tired and confused, but when he looked at the two people, Spock felt torn. Uhura, a human, and his father a Vulcan—how could he appease both and himself? He hadn't been able to say he loved his human mother for fear of being non-Vulcan. He couldn't grieve for her because his position would not allow him. He couldn't be human enough, and now he couldn't even stay Vulcan.

_I_, thought Spock taking deep breaths_, belong nowhere_. He looked at the shocked faces around the bridge. _Not even as their captain_…

Shakily, Spock announced that he was emotionally compromised and unfit to be captain. He walked off the bridge, refusing to look at anybody. Even when Uhura touched him, Spock turned away from her and rejected her hands. He did not deserve to be comforted. He had let his mother die, almost killed a man, and lost control in front of the bridge. It was unacceptable. _He_ was unacceptable.

As Spock furthered himself from the bridge, he faintly heard Kirk's voice over the wide ship intercom. "Attention crew of the Enterprise, this is James Kirk. Mr Spock has resigned commission and advanced me to acting captain…" Spock tuned out the rest as he shuffled past crewman. He felt weightless, travelling aimlessly through the chaos around him; crewmen were careful to avoid him when he did not.

Touching a wall to support himself, Spock continued down the hall. He did not know where to go, but he had to go _somewhere_.

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So that's the end for now. One more chapter with the movie and then I'm moving on! I'll also explain how Spock ended up going back to the bridge but that's for another chapter.

Please review and let me know how you like the story so far…well I'm mostly recapping the movie for now, but anything's good. Criticism, opinions—whatever! I'd like to hear your thoughts so I can update more quickly :o


	7. Saving Earth

Well, look at that...a new chapter after so soon. I hope all of you are happy! This chapter will be the last regarding the movie and I hope you're glad as much as I am. It was grueling writing this all out within three days, because i wanted to get this finished with. Please review and let me know what you guys think!

Warp Factor 7: Saving Earth

Five powerful digits enclosed over his neck, each one applying a similar bruise-inducing pressure until Jim thought his airways would cave. His own hands tried to pry free the ones that were wrapped around him. Everywhere he touched though, Jim thought his fingers were grazing over embers. He choked, unable to release even a subtle gasp, and clenched his eyes. His back and head ached from being pressed into the hard and buttoned surface of the navigation console. Jim though, tried to shove the pain into the back of his mind and stay awake as he fought back, but something else entirely was coursing through him. When his hands pulled at the other, Jim felt more than pain.

He heard his heart beat in his ears-as well as another's. He felt this second beat more than he heard it, but Jim thought nothing of it. He could feel an unknown sorrow and rage that was not his pulse through him, threatening to overwhelm him. The man did not know what to do other than take it, like he did on Delta Vega. All Jim knew was that he desperately did not want to die. Other than not wanting Earth destroyed, Jim did not want to fall now because he still hadn't made a name worthy enough to be seen apart from his father. He didn't say sorry to his mother and he never did beat up Sam for leaving him. He still didn't even know Uhura's first name or even knew what kept Bones up at night. Jim even wanted the so-called epic friendship that the other Spock spoke so enthusiastically about.

Because in all his life, Jim never truly lived. He scraped by on brashness, wit, and charms, living in the shadow of his father, too downtrodden to rise from it. He wore shoes too big for him and carried a burden too heavy for him. But now he had the opportunity to change the world and himself for the better. Jim wasn't going to die before doing it. Since joining Starfleet, Jim found people who believed in him and who he could trust. He found, through them, his own potential. He wasn't going to let waste what he could _be._

_Hell_, Jim screamed in his head_, I didn't even meet that one person yet!_

And just like that, the foreign emotions Jim felt were engulfed with his own and he was breathing again. No longer being choked, coldness and emptiness rushed through Jim as he crumbled to the floor, coughing. The first intake of breath overwhelmed him. His legs were weak as he tried to support himself, still hacking away, and wondering what the hell just happened. Jim still felt remnants of explainable sorrow and regret within him, albeit more dull, but he felt it nonetheless.

Through his hazy vision, Jim noticed his tormentor standing apart from the navigation console with his back to him. The sight was familiar. Jim recalled a Vulcan standing similarly with his back to him months prior. This Vulcan's current position, however, was not poised or contemplative. As Jim slowly recovered, he identified the slouching shoulders and hanging arms, as the posture of defeat and loneliness. Jim knew then he achieved what he had sought out to do.

When Spock denounced his position and left the bridge, Jim felt no better than scum. Everyone looked around at a loss of what to do, but when Bones stated they had no captain and no first officer for that matter, Jim pulled himself together to step up and sit in the captain's seat. He was tired, light-headed, and sore. Uhura, Bones, Sulu, and Chekov stared at him, which he met with a little hesitancy. He briefly stated he would be the one in command.

"I hope you know what you're doing," Uhura said with a hard voice, "_Captain_," she added harshly at the end.

Jim barely met her eyes when he answered, "So do I."

Then she turned on her heel and headed towards her communications console.

Jim knew what he must have looked like to everyone around him, which was probably an opportunistic jerk, but when Jim took a breath and exhaled deeply, he knew this was where he needed to be.

Vulcan was gone but Earth was still there. He was going to make sure it stayed that way.

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Obviously, being in a position of responsibility was not easy, even to Jim who was quite experienced with being in command. Not even he, however, could _not_ feel the pressure of saving more than a billion lives.

Jim was discussing his new plan with Bones, Sulu, and Uhura when Chekov interrupted him with a tap to his back, sounding excited. Willing to listen to anything at that point, Jim let the young man voice his plan to intercept the _Narada_ undetected. There was no finality to the plan though and Jim was hesitant on going along with it. He needed more...persuasion.

"That might work!" Scotty anounced out of the blue. Jim wasn't too sure though.

"Wait a minute kid, how old are you?" Bones asked Chekov with skepticism.

"Seventeen, sir," Chekov stated proudly, but that only made Bones scoff.

As Jim stood amongst his small group, neurons flaring up to validate the plan and/or find alternatives, he quickly considered that maybe having Spock emotionally compromised was not the best thing in the word. His insides squirmed. No one was listing the pros and cons of the plans, poking at his methods, or questioning his authority...what if he did do something wrong and no one was there to point it out to him?

_If Spock were here_, Jim thought carelessly.

"Doctor, Mr Chekov is correct."

Everyone, including Jim turned their heads towards the turbolift. Spock looked at them expectantly and swiftly approached them, stating he could confirm Chekov's plan. There was zero sign that any emotional transgression had taken place. Hands by his side, spine straight, and with a walk that meant business, Jim saw the return of the composed Vulcan he was familiar with. Hearing him talk, Jim had to restrain a smile that almost broke across his features as Spock spoke. Who knew the Vulcan would come out just when Jim needed him?

"Romulans and Vulcans share a common ancestor," the Vulcan enlightened, facing Jim. "Our cultural similarities will make it easier for me to access the ship's computer to locate the device. Also," Spock barely paused for breath, "my mother was human, which makes Earth the only home I have left."

Jim had the decency enough to look slightly away, but then his eyes returned to the Vulcan's and he stepped towards him. Going aboard the _Narada_ would be suicide. There was no way he was going to let the Vulcan go in alone, even if he did just insult him twenty minutes ago. "I'm coming with you," Jim stated in a voice that made no room for argument.

Spock stared at Jim with almost an amused expression. "I would cite regulation," the Vulcan said matter-of-factly, "but I know you will simply ignore it."

With those last few words, Jim saw even more the Vulcan he knew before the Kobayashi Maru. Finally, he let a small smile pass his lips. _Damn straight I would_, Jim mentally agreed. "See?" he said with a tired voice, "We are getting to know each other." Then he gave Spock a slap to the shoulder before passing him. They didn't have time to stand around.

It was decided. They were going to board the _Narada_ together.

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They were about to energized. Jim was just standing around the transporter pad, innocently minding his own business and patiently waiting to be beamed away, when he looked left, looked back, then did a double take.

_D-did_...

"I'll be monitoring your frequency," Uhura whispered to Spock, kissing him lightly on the lips.

"Thank you, Nyota," Spock responded quietly back.

A range of emotions and thoughts flitted through Jim at that moment as he took in the two beings beside him. He couldn't hide his obvious shock-and hurt. When Uhura silently stared at him, Jim had the strong notion he should act mature, no matter how much he wanted to splutter and say _"HE was your hot midnight date?!"_ because it all made sense now. Her secrecy and fear of being found out (but that didn't explain her coldness towards him). So, Jim didn't say anything and let her leave the pad. He could not, however, keep silent with Spock.

Once Uhura was out of sight, Jim awkwardly asked, "So her first name's Nyota?" He thought it was a pretty damn nice name, he just didn't understand why Uhura never told him.

"I have no comment on the matter," Spock replied sharply.

Jim wisely remained silent. He wasn't going to make the Vulcan angry a second time.

"Energize," Jim commanded after Scotty stated they would be beamed into the cargo bay somewhere. However, that was _if _the Romulan ship had any "common sense" in its design.

It wasn't long before Jim and Spock re-energized. Unfortunately, they were anywhere but the cargo bay. Jim didn't have to tell Spock to run because upon realizing they were clearly seen, the two split off at a sprint, firing their phasers as they went.

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"Welcome back Ambassador Spock," the computer generated voice greeted.

Jim nearly felt his heart leap out of his chest. "Well, that's weird," he commented lightly, making sure not to look at the silent Vulcan. Then he quickly side-stepped him to get around, hoping that by all means their plan wouldn't screw up because Spock realized there was another him in this universe.

Entering the main terminal of the ship, Jim looked around baffled, and touched a wall filled with unfamiliar designs. Resisting the urge to whistle, Jim nearly jumped when Spock tried to confront him about their situation.

Jim ignored it. "You'll be able to fly this thing right?" asked Jim instead, _because I sure as hell can't_.

"Something tells me I already have," Spock answered with suspicion. They looked at each other, their faces merely inches apart, but Jim was unwilling to give more than what was necessary away, even if nothing earth-shattering did happen despite Spock's awareness. He wasn't going to take any chances on trying to explain.

"Good luck," he said, breaking their eye contact, quick to leave. For some reason, Jim just couldn't keep staring at Spock for long, not with the knowledge he knew, and not with the time they had left. Any other day, Jim wouldn't have minded just staring at Spock. Any other day.

"Jim."

In their handful of meetings, not once had Spock ever spoken his first name. It was always Cadet, or Cadet Kirk...never just _Jim_. So, the acting captain stopped short and sharply turned around. He didn't like the intensity in which Spock said it-as if they were going to die. And just as Jim predicted, the Vulcan expressed the statistics of them surviving.

Not one to be pessimistic, Jim responded swiftly. "It'll work."

"In the event that I do not return," continued Spock stepping closer to Jim, staring him down, "please tell Lieutenant Uhura-"

Jim would hear none of it. He didn't want to know how it ended or what that would mean to him. "_Spock_," Jim interrupted, fixing his eyes on the Vulcan. He knew that he must not have left a good impression on him so far, but Jim still tried to convey as much sincerity and confidence as he could. This person, after all, had been a potential candidate in his sad little love life. Jim was not a heartless man to not even try and comfort the Vulcan, but it was also in his nature to reassure people that things will work out. "It'll work." And when Jim saw that Spock wasn't going to argue back, he exited the ship. If Spock was going to call him back, he decided then he just wasn't going to listen.

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It was certainly not Jim's day. For one, he got a court hearing for "cheating" and he was also hated by the Vulcan he looked up to. Second, he had the worst allergic reaction in his entire life. Third, he almost died while trying to disrupt the drill back on Vulcan, and almost died again saving Sulu. Then he was almost eaten alive by a frozen wasteland creature. Not to mention, he almost died again from being choked to death-and all this just because he had every intention of doing good.

Having almost died nearly five times that day, even Jim found that a little unsettling. It was a new record for him, but not one he was proud of. However, being on the edge of death once more did not phase Jim in the least.

He gasped when hands clutched his neck.

"James T. Kirk was considered to be a great man," Nero ground out from above him, "he went on to be Captain of the USS Enterprise," he continued, strengthening his hold on Jim's neck, "but that was another life," he whispered harshly, "a life I will deprive you of just like I did your father..!"

Verbal abuse was common in Jim's life. He usually didn't take it sitting down, but he couldn't do anything now with his oxygen being cut off and his back on the ground. Hell, he couldn't even retort. If Jim had been a lesser man, he would have accepted his fate and just died, many times over by now if he listened to every word people had said about him-about how he didn't deserve to live and how he would never be his father. After three years in Starfleet, Jim knew better. Knowing that his father would've been proud of him in another life, it was enough for Jim to go on because _Jim _finally felt convinced that he _did_ deserve to live. He wasn't going to let the same person deprive any more lives.

As if a greater being had suddenly decided to bestow upon Jim every blessing in the world, a voice broke out in the open announcing that the drill was destroyed. Jim was not relieved until after Nero released him, screaming out Spock's name, before abandoning Jim. The man didn't mind one bit.

Gulping in as much air as he could, Jim rolled over on to his stomach, glad of the expected but late news that he had just heard. That meant Earth and Spock were safe, _for the time being,_ Jim thought as Nero continued to roar. Jim clenched his hands, and breathed, trying to get feeling back in to his fingers and to think clearly. He didn't have time to recover. With his hands on the floor, he felt and heard boots on metal. To Jim, that clearly meant he wasn't out of trouble just yet.

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Against all odds, Jim finally managed to get back to the Enterprise with not only Pike in tow, but with Spock as well. He grinned, seeing the Vulcan stand there beside him on the transporter pad, but there was no time to celebrate. As soon as Bones came in, Jim left their captain in his hands and followed Spock and Uhura out of the room.

"Didn't I tell you it'll all work out?" Jim said breathlessly, trying to keep up with the Vulcan and Uhura, who looked slightly relieved.

Spock slowed down until Jim was following at his pace. "We are still in a dangerous situation," he pointed out sternly.

It was true. "I knew you'd come back alive," Jim said with a small smile as he gave a side glance at Spock. The Vulcan momentarily slowed down and quirked a brow at Jim.

"Does this knowledge have anything to do with the fact that the ship I piloted knew who I-" Spock began but Jim knew where he was going with it.

"What are you talking about?" Jim interrupted like it was nothing and looked away from Uhura, who was unusually quiet. "I'm just saying I have exceptional intuition," he muttered. But before Spock could reply, the three entered the bridge at the same time and the conversation was put behind them.

"Captain!" Chekov greeted, "Ze enemy's ship is losing power. Shier shields are down sir."

"Hail them now," Jim commanded, feeling Spock right behind him.

Everyone watched as the looming ship of tentacles started exploding in several places. Jim did not feel sympathy for these men, even if he could relate to their feelings of vengeance.

Once Nero was on screen, Kirk formally introduced himself and their current situation. Because he was not alone and because Jim knew he was also representing Starfleet, he did what he thought he should as a responsible person in control. Out of simple consideration he decided he would offer them a chance. Spock on the other hand, differed from Jim.

"Captain, what are you doing?" the Vulcan asked, so his back was turned to the screen.

Startled, Jim turned along with him to answer him. "Showing them compassion may be the only way to earn peace with Romulus," Jim reasoned. "It's logic, Spock. I thought you'd like that." _If his mother didn't die_, Jim thought in the back of his mind.

Spock faintly shook his head. "No, not really," he said quietly and looked at Jim. "Not this time." And it was a look that made Jim feel funny, as if Spock thought that Jim of all people would know better, which was true. However, there was a difference between acting on personal feelings and acting on responsibility. Jim may only be an acting captain, but that did not mean he had any less responsibility. In this case, he needed to be the better man. If he could stop the cycle of vengeance now, he would be doing more than saving just the lives of his ship's and Earth's. But alas, Nero refused any help whatsoever.

00000000000

Somehow, in the span of less than fifteen hours, Jim's life had turned a complete 180 degrees. He had been in trouble, almost died, took over as captain, almost died some more, saved Pike, saved Earth, and now he was back on Earth and Jim wasn't too sure if he was still in trouble. Sure, people had congratulated him when they returned to Earth through shuttlecraft, but that didn't mean he was off the hook. Jim did break about a dozen Starfleet regulations already...

"Bones," Jim sighed as he sat in the medical ward, "what's going to happen to me?"

"The only thing that's going to happen to you is _death_ if you keep resisting," Bones said roughly. When Jim immediately stilled, the doctor pushed in a needle at the base of Jim's neck. "That wasn't so bad now was it?"

"Come on Bones," said Jim ignoring the pain. "I was on suspension before I left Earth. What's going to happen to me?" He held his hand out for his friend to run a dermal re-generator over his knuckles.

Bones sat down beside Jim once he finished. "You just saved Earth-"

"_We_ saved Earth," Jim corrected. "I couldn't have done it without you, or anyone on the Enterprise for that matter."

"Yeah, like that would've happened without you," said Bones rolling his eyes. "Quit trying to be humble. Who knows where we would've been if you weren't there. Starfleet will owe you that at least. If they want to sink you, I'll take responsibility-after all, I was the one who took you on board."

Jim was quiet for a moment and watched the people bustle about him. The Enterprise crew sustained a lot of injuries and Jim felt oddly proud that they held through under his command. After returning to Earth though, Jim felt drained of adrenaline. He looked listlessly across the room and asked, "What do you think Spock will do?"

"That pointy-eared hobgoblin?" Bones asked with a little anger in his voice. "I don't want to think about him Jim. He almost killed you."

At that answer, Jim unconsciously let a hand touch his neck.

After a moment, an announcement was made to all crew members of the Enterprise as well as the Admiralty to report to the court room. Bones sighed. "I've had enough of court hearings for a life time. Come on Jim, I'm sure it won't be as bad as last time."

00000000000

"By Starfleet order 28455, you are hereby directed to report to Admiral Pike, USS Enterprise to duty as his relief."

Jim walked to Admiral Pike and stood in front of him. His back and legs straight as he did his best to look as formal and approppriate as possible. "I relieve you, sir." He said stiffly.

"I am, relieved," Pike responded with lightness in his voice.

Jim looked down, unable to hold back the smile when he heard the double meaning. "Thank you, sir."

"Congratulations, Captain," Pike said with a warm smile, and it was such a huge difference from the first time Jim met the man. "You're father would've been proud."

Jim didn't expect this comment but he appreciated and revelled in it none the less. It wasn't often he heard praise when it concerned his father and him. When Jim looked around and saw that everyone was cheering for him, he did not feel prideful or even superior. Instead, a veil of content and peace fell over him. There was, however, one detail that bothered him and that was amongst the hundred plus people in the room, not one was Vulcan.


	8. Death and Sunshine

_A/N: _I apologize for such a late update. School and life in general has been a little hectic for me lately but, who hasn't felt like that? But I did manage to finish this chapter. For some reason, it turned out waaaaaaay longer than I had originally planned it but I guess it was for the better. I just kept adding and adding and then suddenly it's eighteen pages instead of the average twelve or thirteen pages.

Anyhow, thanks to those who've reviewed and faved thus far. Your support is greatly appreciated!

Warp Factor 8: Death and Sunshine

Laying in the dark of his room, Spock sat on his bed staring out his window. It was a moonless and cloudy night, contrary to what the weather channel had stated earlier that day. Other than the flashing lights of shuttlecrafts taking off, Spock did not see any traces of the stars that he was seeking. For on nights like these, he often turned to them for guidance. He did not know when exactly it had grown to be a habit.

Drawing his wool sweater close to him, Spock crossed his legs over the other so that his thighs touched the surface of the mattress. The Vulcan's lips drew thin. All he saw was the artificial luminescence of the city being reflected from the drab of gray that hung over the buildings. He would have no peace as long it was covered.

Exhaling a breath, Spock let his feet drop to the floor. Then taking three steps to his balcony window, he drew the blinds without a second thought and returned to his bed. The Vulcan crawled under his sheets and lay perpendicular to the headboard, his fingers linked over his chest. Still unable to sleep, Spock looked upwards at his ceiling. Shadows flitted irregularly across it, caused by the gaps from his blinds.

Spock then tried to sleep.

It had been an eventful day, yet, tired as he was, the Vulcan could not close his eyes for long. Too much questions occupied his mind and no matter how much he wanted to take advice from his elder self, he did not know how. To begin with, how does one even start with doing what _felt_ right? He was raised to be Vulcan—raised to domesticate his emotions to the point that it would not leave the house without consequence. Despite his upbringing, however, Spock had been more human than he had ever been in the span of less than twenty hours. He had let his emotions get the better of him not once, but several times.

The unusual anger he had felt when he realized how Kirk had bypassed the Kobayashi Maru routine, the sorrow he had felt when his mother and planet died, the vulnerability he felt with Uhura, the anger he had felt yet again when Kirk accused him of not loving his mother, and his desire for revenge on Nero. His emotions had been so strong. He felt dull now. Empty, as if nothing in the world had changed. But Spock knew somewhere in the vastness of space, there was one less planet. Equivalently in his heart, there was one less bond. Yet, the world continued to go on as it always had. Spock, illogically and desperately so, did not want to be swept away in that current of indifference.

The next morning, Spock woke with a start, his hand outstretched and cold.

00000000000

Throughout the rest of the day, rain poured over San Francisco and Spock continued to contemplate on what came to be known as the "_Narada_ Incident." He tended to his hygienic needs and did not bother to eat. He was not hungry in the least.

hen he faced the balcony, sat in front of his bed, and meditated for hours until he decided he needed to be updated on anything that was happening since yesterday. He was unwilling to go outside for the most part unless he was needed by the Academy though, as the weather dulled his mood. So, Spock tried to stay indoors.

He leaned over his desk surface to check on his PADD. It was filled with messages when he checked the sleek board. One was from Captain Pike asking how he was doing and where he was during Kirk's commendation ceremony. The Vulcan eyed the email a little longer before hitting the reply button. Even though Spock knew Kirk would be given a commendation, since he himself acknowledged the man's efforts to the Admiralty, the Vulcan did not wish to remain in the man's presence any further. Spock had done many things unwarranted to the cadet turned captain, things that called for apologies, but Spock had found it difficult to face the man. He did not know why. Plus, he had better things to do in light of his home planet that was destroyed.

In order to aid in rebuilding his specie and society, Spock had been fully prepared to leave Starfleet. It was definitely the logical action to follow in midst of the recent planetcide, but Spock was hesitant. He would be rebuilding a society that had shunned him and Spock was just not sure if he wanted to contribute to more ignorance. His reputation had definitely changed over the years but the Vulcan did not know if he would truly be accepted by his people. With his mother gone, Spock did not know if he would even tolerate being amongst their prejudice, but who was to say that Vulcan society could not change for the better? They had done it once before under the philosophy of Surak. Perhaps, there would be no better chance than now to change that; as Spock had thought that back in the shuttle craft bay, his eyes could've sworn that he had seen his father's back.

But the Vulcan was not his father or an elder from the Vulcan High Council. The Vulcan had been _him_, many years from now in an alternate universe.

"_I am not our father."_

Although Spock had contemplated on a counterpart based on him piloting an alien ship, he had definitely not expected to meet himself back then. Wizened features paralleled his and Spock saw himself in a hundred years' time. He could not believe, however, the aged Vulcan's eyes. They were bright dark orbs full of emotion—the most expressive eyes Spock had ever seen on a Vulcan. They had reminded him of his mother's in an instant.

As the older Vulcan had continued to speak, Spock recalled the surprise he had felt one after the other and paused for a moment in typing out his reply to Captain Pike.

The reason why Kirk would not divulge information to him when he had returned from Delta Vega, the reason why Kirk had tried to emotionally compromise him, and the reason why Kirk had continued to feign ignorance when the two were on Spock's elder self's ship—it was all because of a simple implication and the desire to do a greater good.

Spock resumed typing.

His elder self was truly a cunning individual to have persuaded Kirk. He had even forestalled Spock's decision to aid Vulcan. It would be more efficient if he could truly be at two places at once. To be honest, Spock did not feel ready to leave Starfleet. Although at the same time, he also wanted to help his people in their new settlement, but what _felt_ right? Spock had a suspicion but he was still not clear on it. The Vulcan refugees would depart in a few days. Spock would have that much time to consider.

Spock leaned back in his chair and reread his email.

_To Admiral Pike,_

_I congratulate you on your recent promotion and I apologize for not attending the ceremony. Since Vulcan was destroyed, I thought my presence would be more useful else where at that time._

_And you were correct, Admiral Pike. I did find speaking to James Tiberius Kirk extremely interesting if not also frustrating. _

_Lastly, in terms of my condition, I am quite well._

_Live long and prosper,_

_Spock_

With one finger raised over the send button, Spock hesitated a second more before releasing the message. Then he continued on to the next email. Several were updates on the New Vulcan situation. A Starship would be assigned picking up Vulcan refugees to head to their new planet, but nothing exact was mentioned. Another was a notification for the memorial service that would be held within two day's time. Many Starfleet cadets and officers had died during the _Narada_ Incident, and that would have been the case for the _Enterprise_ as well had it not been for Kirk. Or if it had not been Spock's angry self that demanded a confrontation with Kirk on the Kobayashi Maru, therefore wasted time getting to Vulcan, then maybe, just maybe, the planet would still be here today. Maybe, his mother would still be alive.

Spock closed the email and opened up another one. This time, the message was addressed from Uhura. The Vulcan quickly read through it.

_Hello Spock,_

_I hope you're doing well. You weren't at the Commendation ceremony so I was a little worried, but you probably had other business to attend to. I have a lot more to say but I want to say it in person. Will you have time to meet up with me today at 1230?_

_Nyota._

Spock stared at the message for a moment longer as several thoughts crossed his mind at once. The Vulcan had pondered much on his relationship in regards with her, the only individual he was ever romantically involved with. It was new to him, loving another person other than his mother. Did he truly love Nyota though? Spock certainly thought he did when he thought he was never going to return to the Enterprise. It was different now in so many ways.

Ever since growing up on Vulcan, Spock had never willingly tried to sought out a partner. Yes, he was arranged to bond with a Vulcan by the name of T'Pring when he was young, but Spock did not approve of it. It was said that their minds had been compatible, and Spock did not know why or how his elders had determined that, but Spock had silently disagreed. He had felt her mind and it was anything _but_ compatible to him. She had been young, easily swayed by others' opinions around her, and Spock had easily felt her dislike of him for the same reasons other Vulcans had looked down upon him. Their logic may have been running at the same wavelength, which was admirable for T'Pring's young age, however, their souls were no more compatible than oil and water.

Spock did not keep in touch with her since that day. He did hear though, that she became a fine woman.

Bonding in the time after Surak had nothing to do with emotional compatibility, Spock knew, yet, he wanted more than a logical bond. Since he had his talk with his father, and with the stranger he had only met once, Spock was left with different impressions. His father claimed to marry out of logic, and Spock now knew this was not true. Back then, he didn't. Spock thought that he would indeed one day be like his father as well—bonding out of logic. On the other hand, the stranger who spoke with him about the future, left with him a greater impression than the Vulcan would have liked.

Spock had hoped. He had always secretly thought that there was more to life than the attainment of ultimate logic and emotional control.

So, out of pure curiosity and blind faith, Spock trusted the stranger's words—a stranger whose face he could not remember for the life of him. He was as less interested with those on Vulcan as they were with him. Despite being biologically different, Spock was capable of competing with Vulcans at an intellectual level. Even though he could have been seen as their equal, Spock was not treated as such. Thus, the Vulcan decided he would wait until he was in Starfleet. Before that, he would look at no other as it would logically be a waste of time. If there was someone as great as the stranger claimed there was in the future for him, than it was worth the wait. Spock would put all his effort in the pursuit of logic until then.

Now here he was in a relationship with a woman like no other.

Spock typed back to Uhura and stated that yes, he would like to meet up with her. It was about time he left his apartment room anyways.

00000000000

"How are you Spock?" Uhura asked quietly with concern. They sat in a booth at a small cafe that overlooked the river. Her ever warm hands gently covered his left. From the contact, he felt her warmth pulsating through his skin, yet...it was not the same warmth as yesterday. It was strange. Had his senses dulled or...

When Spock didn't answer immediately, Uhura gave him a light squeeze. "I guess you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," she murmured. "I won't push it...a lot has happened. We've lost a lot of people we knew..." Her voice was even more quiet now, even to Spock's superior ears. "Of the list of survivors, m-my roommate was not one of them..."

From the moment Spock had laid eyes on Uhura a mere ten minutes ago, and saw her neutral face, he had the suspicion that the meeting wasn't just for his comfort. Uhura was not as strong as she had been back on the _Enterprise_. Now that the _Narada_ Incident had passed, it was not unusual for people to experience post-traumatic symptoms. Uhura was quiet, contemplative, distressed...

Spock squeezed her hand back and met her eyes, though he did not know what to say to comfort her. "It is regrettable that many did not survive," Spock murmured, "yet, despite everything that has happened, I am relieved to see that you are still here."

Uhura gave Spock a small smile, her hands still around the Vulcan's, unwilling to let go. They trembled a little and he allowed the silence between them to stretch. Spock didn't even mind the public display of affection at that instant. To some extent, they both needed it.

00000000000

It was half past seven when he returned to his apartment. The weather had been consistent throughout the day, which was for the most part cloudy and windy. Spock did not enjoy it in the least. Since parting with Uhura after their late lunch, he had spent his time walking around campus helping out where he could if he could. Professors and cadets a like had both been lost at an alarming extent. When he had walked down the halls, they were not as lively as they were before. Mourning was in the air yet the institution carried on. It could not afford not to.

Spock even had the time to visit Admiral Pike in his office. As usual, the chairs had been uncomfortable.

"_I expected to hear from you sooner, Spock," Admiral Pike greeted when the Vulcan came in._

"_I was preoccupied with other duties," he replied with calm. "I congratulate you once more on your recent promotion. How is your health?"_

"_I'll be in a wheelchair for the most part unfortunately," Admiral Pike answered with a sigh, "but believe me, I've left my command in capable hands. It's no offence if you weren't made the captain, Spock. It wasn't my decision."_

"_None taken sir," said Spock waving off the comment. "I had not performed admirably as I would have liked, but I do not desire the position of captain any time soon. In fact, I have been considering resigning from Starfleet for the time being."_

_The Admiral looked at Spock strangely, a sudden seriousness overtaking his voice. "There shouldn't be anything to consider at all," he stated, his hands folding together over his desk. "I understand that you want to help your people, Spock, but there's definitely more good you can do for them while you're with Starfleet. Besides, I don't want us losing another top officer. We're short-handed as we speak." _

"_I understand—"_

"_No, I don't think you do," Pike interrupted and Spock felt a little taken back. He didn't expect for the man to be so against this. "I've known you for years. You are one of my best officers. You jumped at every opportunity you got to go on an explorative science mission. I don't think you would truly give all that up just to settle down on a planet—even if it is to aid your people. You wouldn't be happy, Spock."_

"_It does not matter whether or not I will be happy," Spock refuted with as much seriousness. "Since I am now part of an endangered species, I am obligated to help those who are left. My happiness has nothing to do with the greater good, and although being in Starfleet has its advantages, being directly part of the process of rebuilding Vulcan society will promote a sense of unity and strength within my people."_

_Admiral Pike leaned back in his chair and sighed. "If that's how you truly feel about it then Jim would be disappointed that you will not be joining him."_

"_He and I have only met on occasion. I have no commitment to be on his ship."_

"_I heard you two got along famously during the Narada Incident."_

"_He is subordinate, irrational and a reckless individual." _

"_Whose gut instinct managed to save you and all of Earth," Pike countered with an even voice. Spock couldn't deny that—in fact, it still kind of irritated him to an extent. Pike then leaned forward once more and sincerely added, "The Enterprise needs a First Officer, Spock. You still have time before the Vulcan refugees here on Earth leave for their new home. If you know what's good for you, consider the position."_

Spock held a cup of hot tea between his hands as he sat on the floor facing the window. Yes, those had been Pike's exact words and it unsettled Spock. The Admiral had been the second person to suggest he do something for himself for a change.

Why did it seem that everyone knew him better than he did himself?

The Vulcan continued to contemplate about his future until nothing but tea leaves covered the bottom of his cup. By that time, he still did not come across an answer.

00000000000

The next day, Spock woke with a start. His hand was outstretched once more but his fingers grasped at emptiness. Clenching his fists, Spock returned them to his side and took a deep breath. Then he slowly slid out of his bed. He would need to meditate, eat, dress, then attend the memorial service for Starfleet and Vulcan. However, when he glanced outside his window, Spock considered not attending the service at all. The rain pouring outside was seriously depressing enough, but attend he did.

Everywhere he turned, Spock saw nothing but people dressed in black. Outside in the rain, he was amongst a sea of them, moved with them, and bowed his head with them in silence as people gave speeches. Some spoke about bravery, others about comradeship and the upholding of Federation ideals. Even one of the Vulcan elders expressed his gratitude and grief. All the while, the sea of black faced a memorial stone twenty feet high. Erected earlier that day and dark as obsidian, thousands of names were inscribed into it. Beside this stone was another equally as tall—a gravestone marking the loss of Vulcan.

Flowers of different species crowded the base of each stone. Each person that came had brought some sort of floral piece as a form of tribute, and even though it was mainly a human practice, Spock saw that the Vulcan stone was also adorned with flowers. Many were native to his home planet but he could see the variation from Earth mixed in.

Uhura, who stood beside him, squeezed his hand lightly every time there was a familiar name. Spock squeezed back in reassurance as he faced forward, but his eyes were glued to the twin set of stones behind the current admiral giving his speech. Spock's eyes did not move until a familiar voice graced his ears.

"Shit, I knew Finnegan," Kirk muttered in a low voice as the names of the deceased were called. "Man was a jerkwad—"

"Jim," a gruff voice interrupted, "s_hut up_. Now's not the time."

Out of curiosity, Spock leaned forward in his row to see Kirk and McCoy two strangers down muttering to each other. How could he not hear them with his ears? They were the only ones who spoke amidst the droning speeches and raindrops on umbrella tops.

"When will it ever?" Jim muttered again. "I didn't like him but no one deserves to die like that…"

Spock saw Kirk's brows scrunched as the man faced forward, finally falling silent like everyone else. When Uhura squeezed his hand once more, Spock too faced forward, tearing his eyes from the man's face. He had seen a happy Kirk, a cocky Kirk, an angry and defiant Kirk, but never had Spock seen a pained Kirk. It piqued his curiosity. Unlike Uhura's pain, which Spock found unsurprising for some reason, the Vulcan did not expect Kirk to be so compassionate. Throughout the unfortunate ordeal that took place only a few days ago, Spock had bantered and fought with this man, yet, not once had the thought that Kirk could be troubled crossed the Vulcan's mind. The cadet now turned captain had seemed unstoppable, unwavering…undeniable.

When the service was over, Spock did not plan on mingling. The rain had not cease, and his arm had begun to numb from holding up his umbrella, which he shared with Uhura.

As the crowd began to disperse and Spock patiently waited to move out of his row, he heard his name being called from behind him. He stopped mid-step and turned along with Uhura to face Kirk and McCoy. Each wore formal Terran attire and stood under one umbrella, their shoulders nearly bumping into the other's.

"Kirk," Spock greeted, unsure of what to call the man. The individual who stood before him was no longer the cadet that he had been familiar with, but Kirk was also the captain he was not prepared to call him. "McCoy," Spock added with a glance to the doctor. In response, the other man appeared to glare at him. "You wish to speak with me?" he asked Kirk.

"Yes, sorry, if you don't mind," Kirk answered apologetically, glancing between Spock and Uhura. "I just needed a few minutes of your time, since I don't know when I'll see you again. Will you walk with me?"

Under the current weather where the rain was just pouring harder and the cold getting colder and Spock just wanted to leave as quick as possible?

"Very well," the Vulcan nodded and missed the look of relief on Kirk's face as he turned to Uhura. "It is cold. You do not have to wait for me."

Uhura stared at Spock for a second, as if asking him something, but then gave a small scoff, looking away. "I wasn't planning to. I hate the cold as much as you do anyways." She let a small smile pass her lips as Spock felt her grip tighten in his hand. "By the way, I'm taking this umbrella with me."

At that, Spock raised his brow. "I would not have you leave without it."

"Take the goddamn umbrella Jim or I'll—"

Spock turned around in time to see Kirk trying to shove the umbrella into McCoy's hands.

"Then what are you going to use?" Jim interrupted.

McCoy sighed. "This is why we should have brought _two_ umbrellas, but _no_, you just had to—"

"Boys, please," Uhura called out almost authoritatively. "Let's all do the logical thing here and just switch partners," she suggested glancing at all of them.

For a moment, Spock saw the return of Uhura's usual determined spirit and quietly mused at it.

"Why didn't I think of that?" said McCoy exasperated as he tugged Kirk towards the other two. "Come on, let's switch up so we can get this over and done with."

They came together until their umbrellas just touched each other's tips. At the last moment, just as Kirk and McCoy were bickering once more, Spock ran a thumb down Uhura's. He would miss her warmth. Then he reluctantly released her and his umbrella to the woman.

"I won't take him for long," Kirk teased lightly as Spock passed McCoy to stand beside the man. For a moment, the Vulcan could've sworn he also saw the doctor giving him another glare, but it didn't linger in his thoughts.

Uhura rolled her eyes with good nature. "Then I'll see you tomorrow, Kirk."

"Yeah, see you too," Jim nodded. Then to McCoy he asked, "I'll see you back at home then?"

McCoy shrugged. "Well there's nowhere else for me to go so, yes."

And with that, the two groups parted ways. Spock could hear McCoy offering to hold the umbrella as he turned his back, but the majority of his attention was on the man beside him. What did Kirk have to say to him? Spock was curious to know.

For a while, they walked against the crowd, trying to not bump into each other's shoulders as much as possible and making small talk. This was more difficult than Spock thought. When he shared his umbrella with Uhura, her slight form beside his did not impede in his travels. Kirk, however, was similar in build to his, if only slightly shorter. Their biceps occasionally brushed, their shoulders sometimes collided, and if their footings were off, their hips would knock against the other. By the time the two reached an area void of people, Spock felt as if he had experienced a year's worth of physical contact.

"Sorry Spock, didn't mean to make you go through all those people with me like that," Kirk said with a side glance. They ended up standing right in front of the two memorial stones.

"Apologies are quite unnecessary," Spock murmured. He took half a step away from Kirk so there was a hand's width between their shoulders, while still being underneath the shelter of the umbrella.

"Then what I'm about to say would be pointless to you?" Kirk asked not facing Spock.

The Vulcan moved his eyes from the stones and steadied them on the man beside him. "You wish to apologize even further?" Of all things that Spock imagined that Kirk would say, like asking him to be First Officer, apologies were the last on his mind.

"Yes," Kirk confirmed with a rigidness to his voice. He hesitated then turned to Spock with anxious eyes. Were they anxious? Spock wasn't too sure. Kirk must have been if his brows were slightly furrowed and his eyes kept shifting. "About the whole incident on the bridge—I just wanted to let you know that I didn't mean any of that stuff about your mother, Spock. I would not willingly say anything like that under any other normal circumstances, but, you know…we weren't under any other normal circumstance, and I had to compromise you somehow," said Kirk and then he quickly added, "but it was all for the greater good, just so you know. But I'm sorry I had to say it anyways. You didn't deserve any of that, so yes, that's what I wanted to tell you."

Throughout Kirk's obvious ramble, Spock felt a twinge of amusement, understanding, and even appreciation. This was more like the Kirk he knew before the Kobayashi Maru. It seemed the man was foreign with apologies, however, hence the rambling, but Spock was pleased with Kirk's effort nonetheless. The man had proven to be sincere more than once. Spock would not be difficult about it. Besides, he needed to give one in return.

"If you feel like you must apologize for something like that, then I must as well," the Vulcan admmitted, making sure Kirk was looking at him. When the man gave him a quizzical stare, Spock elaborated. "I did not listen to you, I marooned you, and I had attempted to suffocate you. In addition to that, I brought up your father during the Kobayashi Maru hearing with ill intentions towards you. It was unwarranted and you did not deserve to be humiliated like that in front of your peers and instructors. I sincerely apologize, Kirk. If it had not been for you, we would not be standing on this Earth today." When the human merely gaped at him, Spock repeated the man's surname.

"Call me, Jim—please," Kirk said, snapping out of his reverie and flashed Spock a small smile. "And I accept your apology. I did take a lot of crap from you, and that was a really low blow back then at that hearing I mean, I didn't even know my father at all yet people always compared me to him—anyhow, if you can forgive me then I can forgive you," Kirk said. "Besides, I can't take all the credit for saving Earth. If it wasn't for Bones, who knows where we would've been."

"Bones?"

"Oh, that's my nickname for Leonard."

"Dr McCoy?"

Kirk looked quizzically at Spock. "How many different ways do you want me to say his name? Yes, Leonard McCoy, the doctor also known as 'Bones,' you know, the man who just walked away with your girlfriend?"

"I know who it is you were referring to," Spock stated defensively. How could he not know the man who stood so close to Kirk and kept glaring every time the Vulcan went near him? Spock just didn't understand how the doctor had anything to do with…well anything.

"Well, glad to know we're talking about the same person," said Kirk, his brows still arched. Then he gradually faced the stones. "He found a way to bring me onto the _Enterprise_. So really, I would've been nothing without him. I owe him so many times over already."

"He is a good friend then," Spock commented, not really too sure what to say. He didn't want to say anything at all actually, regarding the other man.

"My _best_ friend," Kirk corrected with a warm smile, but he did not look at Spock. Instead, the man's eyes were downcast, as if recalling a faint but blissful moment. It caught him by surprise, and, really, Spock wished he didn't see that face. He was left speechless at such an obvious emotional display of affection. It was different from every other emotion the man had displayed thus far. Not only that, but the mention of 'friend' from Kirk's mouth reminded him about his encounter with his elder self.

Kirk lightly ruffled the back of his head awkwardly as he looked back at Spock. "Anyways, we should be getting back. It's getting cold."

"I agree," were the only words Spock could muster in his state of bewilderment. Although where it was they were supposed to be getting back to was undefined.

Kirk gave a smile that brought the Vulcan to a time of midnight conversations in the hallways. When the man adjusted his fingers on the umbrella between them, flexing and clenching, it sent odd sensations to his stomach as he listened to Kirk speak. "Thanks for hearing me out. And for watching my back when we were on the _Narada_."

"I did what was necessary," Spock said lowly, reaching for the umbrella handle. Clearly avoiding Kirk's hand, despite his strong and unfounded desire to make contact, he pried the umbrella lightly from the man. "Nothing more and nothing less," he murmured. Spock held the device between them and nodded at the stones. "Despite our losses, you humans always seem to have something to be thankful for. It is contradictory but strangely optimistic."

Kirk shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged. "Call us illogical," he commented with yet another upturn of his lips.

Spock gently lifted his brow. "That is my general opinion."

For an instant, Spock forgot all about the death that stood in front of him in the form of two cold obsidian towers. He did not see them in his mind's eyes. He did not hear the rain that pattered over the umbrella he held. Neither did he remember all the troubles he went through with the man. Spock even forgot about the warm caresses from Uhura. All this was so simply because the Vulcan heard nothing but the light chuckle that burst forth from Kirk's lips. They echoed in his ears, unique in pitch and in vibration. In his physical eyes, Spock saw nothing but a wide smile and bright irises.

In the backdrop of gloom and dread, Spock saw sunlight.

00000000000

It was half past ten when Spock returned to his apartment. He slowly took off his jacket and promptly hung it on the coat hanger by the door. Leaving the lights off and not feeling particularly hungry, he slipped out of his shoes and walked towards his bedroom. His socked padded feet crossed the hardwood floor in seconds.

It had been a dreadful day; it had been a good day—depending on whom he spent it with.

The Vulcan took off his clothes until he was in nothing but his undergarment. Shivering, he hastily pulled on his woolly meditation robe and wrapped it tightly around his body. He stood for a moment to let his body warm up. Then keeping his socks on, he sunk on to the side of the bed that faced the balcony windows. The blinds were left open from this morning, in hopes of seeing some sunshine, which never came. Because of the present weather and the current hour, Spock did not expect to see a clear night sky. He had been too busy to even glance up prior to this.

Spock crossed his legs and sat straight, marvelling at the unexpected sight.

How curious…that in this time of uncertainty that the stars decided to reveal to himself now. To him, this meant only one thing.

Thanks to talking to many individuals, Spock had an idea of what he wanted to do. His father, Admiral Pike, his older self, and Uhura were all influential, but it really came down to one person that was the deciding factor to Spock's future.

James Tiberius Kirk, the man he ended up spending almost an entire day with and whose name meant something completely different to Spock now, suddenly became a larger part of Spock's existence. Kirk had inched his way slowly into the Vulcan's life only months before, but like the death of a star, he had come full blown into it.

After their apologetic conversation earlier that day, the two did not go their separate ways like Spock had expected. In fact, Spock had found it difficult to part from the man's company. After several days of self-contemplation and silence, Spock had found it refreshing to speak to someone as brash as Kirk. The man himself, although Spock knew he was not unaffected by their comrades' deaths, had not expressed his grief somberly like many the Vulcan knew, including himself. During their stroll around campus and eventually the city, Spock saw that Kirk walked with his eyes looking forward. Never looking down to the ground, he either admired everything around him or just simply looked at Spock. The latter was something Spock found extremely endearing. And, when the man spoke, whether it was to other mourners or strangers, his voice held strong and reassuring.

Throughout their several hours together, Spock had observed a domino effect amongst the people they ran into. When they had encountered Kirk, they smiled as he smiled and laughed as he laughed. Spock wondered if there had been a memorial service at all when he walked beside the man. By the time they parted, Spock decided that how Kirk acted was merely what everyone could be.

"_You're looking at me as if I shouldn't laugh," Kirk lightly accused over a cup of coffee. He lifted a shoulder and casually dropped it, leaning on top the table. "Why can't I? I don't like moping around like everyone else. What good would that do to anyone that died for Starfleet? My condolences to the deceased, but, no, I won't stand around and let their sacrifices be a waste. I'm gonna be grateful that I'm able to drink my coffee with you like this."_

"_You have not drank your coffee at all," Spock couldn't help but point out. _

"_You know that's not the point," said Kirk after a while. Then he brought his white cup to his lips, lightly blew into it, and took a small sip. "We can be better than this you know," he said looking over his cup. "We've paid our respects, now we should honour it by being better people. We survived. We should make up for the thousands others who couldn't."_

Those were only one of several moments in which Kirk's words drove home to Spock that day. Yet, not once had the man mentioned being a captain; he did not say anything about the _Enterprise_, or even about the position of First Officer. The whole day, it seemed, was spent on relaxing. They had ventured around the city through pouring rain huddled beneath a single umbrella. Their sides had constantly bumped against the other, but Spock did not care anymore. They had visited bookstores and talked about people they knew. Apparently, the man called Finnegan bullied Kirk in his first years. They took shelters at coffeeshops and shared stories about almost anything and as time passed, they even ended up eating at an Italian restaurant. Without realizing it until it was too late, Spock learned that Kirk had already paid the bill when he 'returned' from the bathroom. The night ended with them parting ways at the gates of the Academy. The rain had stopped, so Kirk had taken the umbrella home with him.

Spock slowly laid down on his side, eyes still focused on the stars. They confirmed exactly what he had decided mere hours ago. His mother once said that she would be proud no matter what he would become. His father said he was a child of two worlds, his other self said there was more he could do when he was at two places at once—not to mention, a friendship to look forward to. Last of all, Spock had a huge suspicion that the stranger who spoke to him long ago knew that this moment in his life was crucial. What felt right? It was so obvious now.

Spock would stay in Starfleet, alongside Kirk.

* * *

_I always thought that the ending of the movie was too quick to resolve everything. What about all those who died and did Spock really change his mind so fast? I tried to deal with that in this chapter. _

_Let me know how I did and feel free to give your opinions on the matter._


	9. Memories and Rain

A/N: Sorry for not updating any sooner. This chapter had been difficult to write, and before I knew it, three months had gone by! So this chapter is the longest by far, but that's mostly because of dialogue so don't be afraid!

Thank you all who have reviewed, faved, and followed thus far :)

Warp Factor 9: Memories and Rain

There was a spark in the darkness.

First it was small and Jim wanted to touch it, but then it began to flicker and expand in every direction. It changed into fiery hues, swelling, and sparkling until it cast Jim's shadow. Bright and cheery as the light appeared, however, the man only felt fear in his heart as he stepped back. Jim instinctively knew that that type of light could only destroy. Because he recognized those hellish colours and remembered the sweltering heat it produced, he turned his back on it and ran for his life.

No good would come from flames of that intensity.

Shadows ran alongside Jim with every leg he shot forward. As his thighs burned, the fire behind him seemed to roar, and then Jim heard them before he saw them. Shrill screams filled his ears as the shadows lurched upwards from the ground in sporadic bursts to form bodies. There were men and women, children big and small, and suddenly, Jim was in a crowd of people that were running and screaming in a fit of panic.

They were being chased, hunted, and for all Jim knew, it was because they didn't deserve to live.

The fire, fierce like an army of war horses, stampeded through and engulfed anyone that stood in its path. And although Jim tried as hard as he could, until his lungs were strained and his throat stung, he could not out run the blaze. Jim, fourteen again, burned with everyone else around him.

"Jim, wake up—JIM!"

As if hot water was poured over him, Jim sprang up from his sleep screaming. He felt cool hands roughly take hold of his shoulders, but it did not comfort the man. In a panic, Jim hastily twisted himself away from the fingers—and fell to the ground.

"Jim! Are you alright?"

Slowly, awareness dawned on Jim. He wasn't running away from a fire and the hands on him weren't trying to kill him. Jim looked up at McCoy's worried eyes, not knowing what to say. He tried to speak though his throat felt parched, as if he had run a mile through a desert without water. "Bones," Jim croaked. He wished he didn't sound so broken.

McCoy helped Jim back into bed and gave the man some space. "Are you alright? You were kicking around in your sleep and screaming when I woke up."

"I'm fine," Jim answered quietly to the bed sheets. His fists clenched as he spoke those words, because he knew this was going to happen. He always had nightmares after people he knew died around him. Perhaps it was a sign, Jim didn't know, but maybe he was supposed to die that day—that day and many times over.

"You're as fine as a mauled bird," McCoy scoffed glaring at Jim. "What happened?"

Jim had these nightmares before, but he never told McCoy the real reason why; he wasn't going to start now. Taking a slow breath, he looked at McCoy with the most assuring eyes he could muster and said again with a slight gesture of his hand, "I'm fine. It's just a small nightmare so don't worry about it." In the dimly lit room, Jim could see his friend's doubtful eyes. So, he tried once more to extinguish the man's concern. "I dreamt that I caught Sulu but instead of being beamed back up, we just kept falling until—" Jim slapped his hands together to emphasize the ending. "And that's why I was screaming. Really Bones, no big deal. Everybody has dreams where they're falling once in a while."

"Really."

"Yes, Bones." Jim moved to get out of the bed, "But you know what? I'm not gonna bother you since we both gotta get up in a few hours to volunteer. I'll sleep on the couch in the living room."

"Don't be stupid Jim," McCoy retorted. "You're not being a bother. I'll sleep beside you since that worked before." To show that he meant it, he grabbed Jim's forearm and lightly pushed him back on to the bed. As McCoy slipped in beside him, Jim secretly felt relieved. He really didn't want to sleep alone, but he would if it meant McCoy would have peace. Once his feet were under the blankets though, Jim rested his head back on the pillow. "I don't know what it is that keeps giving you nightmares," McCoy murmured while he laid down, "but it's definitely not just falling."

Jim didn't want to talk to anymore. "…Goodnight Bones."

McCoy sighed. "One day, I'd like to know what eats at you like that when you sleep, but whenever you're ready…Goodnight Jim."

Even though McCoy was his bestfriend, Jim didn't think he would ever be ready to tell the man.

00000000000

The next morning, coldness swept over Jim's body as he woke. The blankets were off and his legs were sprawled over McCoy's torso and leg while his head rested on the very edge of the bed. Since his last nightmare, Jim had one other one but he did not wake up screaming like he did the first. The second involved the _Narada _Incident.

There were flames and explosions and Vulcan died as it did in reality, but Earth died in his dreams as well. When it did, Jim had opened his eyes with a start, stared at McCoy's sleeping face, and was reminded that Earth was still alive. The fact that the two were beside each other was proof; Jim couldn't be any more relieved. That was also when Jim had realized: if McCoy had not dragged Jim on to the _Enterprise_, neither of them would be laying there at all. Jim wouldn't have met Elder Spock, learned Uhura's name, teamed up with Spock, or even become captain—and it was all because McCoy had chosen to be his friend.

It hadn't been a huge discovery, Jim already knew he wouldn't have been able to save Earth without the cooperation of the _Enterprise _crew, but the realization definitely left a deeper impression on Jim. He had felt his heart rate slow down and his breathing had calmed because even as he slept, McCoy was still there for him.

Once upon a time, thanks to the influence of the stranger from Jim's past, Jim was attracted to McCoy, but the man made it clear that he not interested. That did not mean Jim felt any less for his friend. Pulling the blankets closer to them, Jim had fallen back to sleep.

Now Jim was awake and sitting up. He felt more refreshed and since that last nightmare, he did not have another one. He looked at McCoy, who was sprawled on his back. Jim couldn't help but smile when he saw that his friend's limbs were spread like a starfish. It reminded him when he used to share beds with his older brother, Sam. They always complained about each other, kicked each other in their sleep and fought to use the blanket, but they always ended up waking up together in peace, with their hair messy and their legs all over the place. Unfortunately, Sam had left many years ago. Jim didn't know where the man was, but it was nostalgic anyways to wake up with McCoy. The man was like family to him now, more so than his own kin had ever been.

When Jim looked at the clock, he didn't have time to relish the moment.

"Bones!" Jim shouted. He kicked the man as he got off the bed. "We're gonna be late! Come on, get up!" He immediately pulled off all his clothes and searched for new ones.

"Dammit Jim!" McCoy growled out, yanking the blanket closer to him. "I barely got a wink of sleep last night—"

In the middle of pulling on his uniform pants, Jim looked back at McCoy confused. "What are you talking about Bones? You slept like a log!"

McCoy sat straight up in a daze. "Right, of course I did…"

Jim stared at McCoy for awhile after he pulled down his shirt. _Why's he being so weird this morning?_ He thought, but Jim didn't have any more time to ponder. "You know what Bones?" he said as he rushed to the washroom. "Even though it's the perfect weather to mourn, I'm not.. jush going do..shid awound and do noshing," Jim continued while brushing his teeth. Then he quickly rinsed his mouth, washed his face, and rushed out of the bathroom. By the time McCoy was standing up, Jim had already put on his socks and boots. The last thing he grabbed was his PADD from his bedside table before crossing to McCoy.

"Aren't you chipper this morning," McCoy grumbled, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

Jim stared at McCoy and figured that the man probably didn't get as much sleep as he had assumed. Heart pulsing and feeling hesitant, Jim decided to just do it anyways. He took a breath and gave McCoy a bear hug.

"Oof!"

"Thanks Bones," Jim said quickly stepping back.

When McCoy looked at Jim again, his face looked more alert. Nonetheless, McCoy raised a brow in confusion. "For what?"

_For not leaving me behind, for being my friend_. "For everything," Jim decided to say. He clapped McCoy on the shoulders. "I'll see you around Bones," and with that, Jim left the room.

00000000000

The skies were cloudy for most of the time Jim spent in the Academy, but he did his best to not let the weather get the best of him. So, he reported to the main hall to find out how and where he could volunteer. It turned out that the Academy was missing a few professors and many 4th year cadets.

Jim saw that not many people showed up, perhaps only a few dozens. Some were paired and grouped to teach lessons while others were told to help with administration. Jim half-wondered why the Academy wouldn't just temporarily close down to adjust to the new changes and to find substitute professors, but then he realized—what kind of impression would that leave on others? On different planets that were allied to the Federation? There was no doubt that Earth and Vulcan have suffered, but it should not cripple others' faith in each other.

_It wouldn't hurt to give a moment of peace…_Jim thought.

Within a six hour span, Jim lectured two courses that were about three hours long. Surprisingly enough, the students had not been difficult towards a fellow cadet teaching them. Jim took this as a good sign and carried on as best as he could. By the end of each lesson, most students thanked him and even had questions for him. Now Jim knew how his professors felt each time he had a question for them. Surely they must have been annoyed.

Just like at the Commendation ceremony, Jim felt a renewal of acceptance of his own person and for his accomplishments. When the younger cadets congratulated and praised him, Jim always said he couldn't do it alone. He made sure he mentioned it because above all, Jim _couldn't_ have done it alone. He wasn't being considerate or even humble—it was the bare naked truth. He couldn't take _all_ the credit.

"I want to be an officer like you when I'm finished here," one cadet had said, which surprised Jim because not once had anyone ever said that to him. That probably had to do with his rebel streak and criminal record, but that was the past. As much as the cadet's statement was flattering, it was also a profound feeling to be able to be someone's role model.

He was no longer his father's shadow for Jim could cast his own.

00000000000

After the last lecture, Jim decided to visit Pike. He walked down the familiar halls, automatically pausing in front of the wall of windows leading to the office. The hallway was empty as usual, but Jim's mind filled it with memories. He remembered the first time he saw Spock silhouetted against the view and the emotions that that had incited within him; he remembered the brief conversations that took place, and yet it seemed as if it all happened many years ago.

_Where is Spock anyways?_ Jim thought curiously. He continued on to Pike's office, intent on asking the man more about the Vulcan. Spock was, after all, Pike's Chief Science Officer.

0000000000

"Where's Spock?" Pike repeated amused, glancing up from his PADDs. "I don't know Jim. I did send him an email last night and I heard he's been around campus volunteering, but other than that I haven't seen him since we transported back on to the _Enterprise_ together."

"I haven't seen him since then either," Jim murmured. He looked at Pike, a light in his eyes. "I know he comes to see you, so if he happens to drop by later, convince him to be my First Officer. I've already chosen who my Chief Medical, Engineering, and Communications Officers would be."

"And Science?"

Jim grinned. "Of course that would be Spock."

Pike looked at the man across from him and shook his head with a chuckle. "Of course it would. I'll see what I can do for you Jim, but you should personally ask him yourself."

"I think it's a better idea that _you_ do, since you were his captain and all," Jim urged, "besides, I don't think I left a very good impression on him." In fact, Jim did not know where he stood with Spock at all. Nonetheless, he wanted the Vulcan on his ship as much he wanted to captain it.

"Fine, I'll ask if I see him."

Relieved, Jim smiled. "Thanks old man."

Then the two continued on about a new email that Pike just received. "Looks like the memorial will be tomorrow," he murmured, leaning back in his chair. Jim stiffened when he heard it though and grew quiet, but Pike did not allow the silence to lengthen. He sighed and spoke some more. "Jim, I didn't hand over my ship to some incompetent brat. You'll deal with many more deaths and it won't be easy, but I know that you have what it takes to be Captain. You are your father's son after all."

It was McCoy and now Pike. Jim couldn't have better people to support him and lift him from gloom. Because no one had ever really comforted him or had that much faith in him before, Jim really appreciated the people he knew now. "I don't think I needed to hear that," Jim said with mock conceit, "but thanks anyways. So… when's the memorial?"

By the time Jim was going to leave, he couldn't believe how fast everything was going. The memorial was going to be tomorrow already and the _Enterprise_ would leave the day after. Engineers were called from all over to repair the _Enterprise_ in time to leave as scheduled.

"This is ridiculous," Jim grumbled standing up.

"This is Starfleet," Pike said raising his brow with a smirk. "I thought you knew what you signed up for."

"Hey, I just wanted to prove you wrong."

"Well you have, now show me that you can handle it."

Jim turned at the door way and grinned. "You bet I will," he said and left.

00000000000

It was still cloudy and even slightly raining when Jim returned to his quarters. He found McCoy sitting at the kitchen table with a bottle of Bourbon open. His friend had his head in one hand and a glass in the other. Cautiously, he called out to McCoy but when the man did not turn to look at him, Jim gently patted the man's shoulder.

"Hey, you alright there, Bones?" Jim quietly asked.

Startled, McCoy sat back in his seat and stared at Jim with tired eyes. He shook his head. "We've got the total death toll and it's just…a waste, Jim. Such a waste…"

Intent on encouraging and to comfort, Jim wrapped an arm around McCoy's shoulders more firmly and lightly shook him. "Come on, Bones…It wasn't your fault or anything. Like you keep saying, it could've been worse..." Jim pointed out, firmly looking at his friend's eyes, "but if we can be better people, their lives don't have to be a waste. Besides, you're gonna be my Chief Medical Officer, but don't worry Bones. You're not alone. You've got me," Jim ended lifting McCoy to his feet. "Now I think you've had enough to drink for tonight. Come on, let's get to you bed."

McCoy did not protest as Jim took the glass from his hands and helped the man out of the kitchen and into their bedroom. Once McCoy was in bed, Jim moved to walk away. Instead, he felt fingers clenched over his forearm. "Hey, d'you need to sleep with me tonight?" McCoy muttered asked.

Jim heard his friend's vulnerability behind those words, and gave a light smile. He would do what he needed to help McCoy, as the man had always done for him. "I don't," Jim answered, "but I think you do." And with that Jim took off his uniform until he was only in his tank top and briefs. Then he silently slipped under the blankets. Shifting closer to McCoy, Jim watched his friend's eyes closed to sleep before he did the same.

0000000000

It was still raining when Jim woke from his slumber. Much like how the city was sure to be covered in water, Jim was covered in sweat. Nightmares had pervaded his sleep once more as it did with McCoy, because when he saw his friend that morning, the man's skin was also glistening. The two, however, had woken up late and did not have time to discuss their troubles. Within fifteen minutes, both men were out the door under the cover of their own umbrellas.

By the time the two finally arrived at the memorial site, however, Jim was standing beneath McCoy's umbrella. Each had a bouquet in hand and were walking towards two dark towers of stone. Jim stared up in morbid awe as he waited in line for people to pay their respects.

"Why did you even give your umbrella to _her_?" McCoy gruffly questioned beside him.

Jim tore his eyes away from the towers and met McCoy's frustrated face. "Come on Bones," Jim reasoned lightly, "Ruth didn't have an umbrella and I couldn't just leave her soaking wet in the rain like that. What kind of gentlemen would I be?"

"She _cheated_ on you," McCoy began as he walked forward, but Jim had heard this before and it was just all too familiar to him. He didn't need to hear it a dozen times.

"That doesn't mean I don't care for her still, and that doesn't give me an excuse to just leave her like that," Jim interrupted casually. He took a step forward as well and carefully guarded his voice. "She had said she was sorry. We both were. Let's just leave it at that, alright Bones?"

McCoy gritted his teeth as they nudged forward.

Jim exhaled and patted his friend's shoulder. "Hey, at least she said 'thank you' for the umbrella."

"Or you know what would have been better—"

"Oh, were up!"

As Jim had intended and hoped, McCoy shut his mouth to allow the two of them to reach the two towers. Upon arrival, Jim immediately recognized that the one closest to him represented Vulcan. With close inspection, he saw that the stone was actually a deep, dark red. From afar in dreary lighting, of course the tower would appear black. Jim frowned as he paused in front of it though.

"Bones," he whispered to his side. "There's not a single flower for Vulcan!"

"They probably don't have the same custom as us," McCoy whispered back. "Come on, we gotta get going. There's a line up behind us you know." But Jim ignored McCoy's words and stepped forward to the tower, leaving the shelter of the umbrella.

Instantly, he felt the consequences of his action. Rain soaked his hair and his suit, yet Jim continued on. He knelt down gracefully and remembered fighting on the drill with Sulu. He held out the bouquet and remembered Vulcan exploding anyway. Gently placing the flowers at the base of the stone, Jim remembered Spock's tortured and silent expression after beaming back up without his mother; he remembered _drowning_ in depression after Elder Spock's mind meld.

Jim bowed his head. After all that hardship, how could he _not_ put one single flower down for that planet—for both of Spocks' sufferings?

Little by little, Jim stood up and wordlessly stared at McCoy. He simultaneously wanted to cry and scream, but Jim did neither. Amongst a crowd of a thousand plus, he didn't know what expression he wore, or even knew what kind of impression he was making—hell, he didn't even know what he expected McCoy to do, but Jim felt the wet cold more than usual and a hollowness in his chest that had been there before but was now blown open.

He felt disappointed. Even if their customs were different, their memorials were being held on Earth—should the Vulcans not have equal treatment of respect? The beings who had made First Contact with Earth?

McCoy sighed and placed his bouquet along with Jim's. Mysteriously, that simple action was enough to make the young man complacent; the two then silently walked off, a thousand pair of eyes trained on their backs.

00000000000

For the past half hour, Jim could not rest his heart or his mind from palpitating. He knew many people that were announced deceased but he could not hold his frustration in any longer. "Shit, I knew Finnegan," Kirk muttered and balled his fists. "Man was a jerkwad—"

"Jim," McCoy interrupted gruffly, "s_hut up_. Now's not the time."

"When is it ever?" Jim muttered again because he felt that it was unfair. "I didn't like him but no one deserves to die like that…" Not Gaila or even the man who had bullied him in Jim's first years. Nonetheless, Jim fixed his eyes on the speaker and did not say a word more.

By the time the service was over, Jim wanted to leave for home and sink in his bed. He wanted to sulk _so badly_. Not only was it still raining, but everywhere he looked, he saw grim faces. It was enough to make anyone depressed. How was he suppose to command a starship tomorrow?

As Jim shifted beneath McCoy's umbrella so that they could file out of their row, Jim unexpectedly caught a flash of pointy ears—and a bob hair cut to go with it. A spark seemed to light up in Jim and before he could stop himself, he called out to the Vulcan. Apparently, they had been in the same row. How did that he miss that before?

"_Jim_," McCoy hissed from beside him, "what are you doing?"

"I want him as my First Officer, Bones," Jim replied right off the bat. A thousand words instantly filled his mind about what to say to the Vulcan, but none of them seemed right. "I don't know when I'll see him next," he reasoned as they both shuffled to get closer to Spock's and…whoever was sharing his umbrella.

"Kirk," Spock said nodding his head, then greeted McCoy in turn. "You wish to speak with me?"

Not surprised that Spock didn't call him "Captain," Jim asked if Spock was willing to speak to him. Glancing between the Vulcan and Uhura though, and feeling as if he had interrupted them, Jim had the impression that Spock would decline his request. He wouldn't blame him if he did…who wouldn't want Uhura to comfort them? Even the weather wasn't exactly in the best condition for a Vulcan to take a stroll. To Jim's surprise, however, Spock agreed; Jim could not have been happier at that moment…until Spock turned to Uhura, affection clear in his features. Then Jim just felt as awkward as he did back on the transporter pad.

"Jim, if you're gonna leave with him," McCoy said, fixing his eyes on the man, "then take the umbrella."

In an automatic response, Jim immediately refused. He didn't want McCoy getting wet—the older man hated getting wet, unless, of course, he was showering. "It's ok Bones. I like walking in the rain," Jim said with a slight smirk.

McCoy frowned and shoved the umbrella into Jim's hands as they continued to bicker. The doctor sighed for what seemed like the tenth time that day. "This is why we should have brought _two_ umbrellas, but _no_, you just had to—"

"Boys, please," Uhura called out firmly and obviously annoyed. "Let's all do the logical thing here and just switch partners."

Jim blinked. _Why didn't I think of that?_

"Why didn't I think of that?" said McCoy exasperated, and then Jim was tugged towards the other two. "Come on, let's switch up so we can get this over and done with."

As the two pairs closed in on each other, Jim argued with McCoy about who should switch. However, he fell silent when he saw Spock run a thumb over Uhura's hand. Lost in contemplation about the two's relationship, Jim didn't realize that McCoy had already slipped the umbrella into his hands. It was too late to do anything though. Spock turned towards them, moving to leave Uhura's side.

Uneasy about seeing Spock and Uhura's exchange, Jim attempted to cover his nervousness. "I won't take him for long," he teased lightly, looking at Uhura with a small grin. It was tempting to say her first name, but just for today, he won't be a child.

Uhura rolled her eyes with good nature. "Then I'll see you tomorrow, Kirk."

After a few more words, the two groups parted ways; Jim lead and Spock obediently followed against the crowd. Even though Jim was the one who wanted to talk to the Vulcan, he didn't know how to start the conversation. It was fortunate enough that Spock would even hear him out after all that Jim had done… and at that thought, Jim stared at the Vulcan, saw how his serious features were more grim than usual, and decided that apologies were in order. Jim returned his eyes to the path ahead. Occasionally, he glanced to his side.

For about two minutes, Jim tried to shield Spock from walking into any more people than was necessary. Knowing that Vulcans didn't take touching too lightly, Jim tried his best to not make contact with the person beside him as well. Stress the _try_—Jim could not avoid brushing Spock's biceps, shoulders, or even his hips. He mentally cursed their similar build and the limited coverage his umbrella gave them.

Once they reached the towers, Jim apologized to Spock for dragging him through the crowd.

"Apologies are quite unnecessary," Spock murmured, looking disturbed.

At that, Jim felt a little disheartened. "Then what I'm about to say would be pointless to you?" he asked, not facing Spock. Instead, he stared at the pile of flowers that had somehow accumulated at Vulcan's memorial stone. There were a mixture of species native to Earth and a fair few that Jim was sure were alien. Nonetheless, it eased Jim's nerves somehow to see the contribution.

"You wish to apologize even further?"

"Yes," Jim confirmed with some difficulty. He wanted Spock to forgive him, was he taking the right route? He hesitated before turning towards the Vulcan. Jim never really had to apologize so sincerely before, because that usually didn't go well…_How am I going to do this without screwing up?_ Before he could chicken out though, Jim began to ramble. Jumbled and unstructured his sentences were, however, Jim just wanted to be honest.

Spock stared at Jim for a brief moment before speaking. "If you feel like you must apologize for something like that, then I must as well."

With equal intensity, Jim stared right back at him, feeling a mix of relief and then confusion. Did he deserve an apology? Spock continued and elaborated on his own apology about marooning and nearly killing Jim, which took the other man by surprise. Jim didn't think the prideful Vulcan had it in him to say sorry for _everything_. It didn't seem like a big deal to Jim before, but as Spock listed the things he was sorry for, Jim mentally took a step back.

_Huh. That's actually quite a lot…_

Jim observed the being in front of him. Stern brows, thin lips, and murky brown eyes adorned the Vulcan's features in a melancholic way that reminded Jim of Elder Spock. So, the man was convinced. Although in the midst of believing, his mind had wandered elsewhere. Jim found Spock's morose expression extremely attractive. Not that he was a sadistic person by any means but—

"Kirk?"

Jim quickly and mentally slapped himself good. "Call me, Jim—please," he said and flashed Spock a small smile to show that everything was alright and that he wasn't thinking about how fine-looking the Vulcan's eyes were. "And I accept your apology. I did take a lot of crap from you…" He continued on about how it was a low blow and if it hadn't been for McCoy, the outcome would've been worse. "If it wasn't for Bones, who knows where we would've been."

There was a back and forth exchange of names about who exactly 'Bones' was until Jim got tired of it. "How many different ways do you want me to say his name? Yes, Leonard McCoy, the doctor also known as 'Bones,' you know, the man who just walked away with your girlfriend?"

"I know who it is you were referring to," Spock stated, almost offended.

It didn't occur to Jim why Spock was so interested or uninterested, about his friend, but for awhile Jim talked about McCoy with enthusiasm. He pointed out their survival was thanks to the man and even went so far as to claim that McCoy was his best friend. When Spock only stared at him, silent expression in place, Jim suddenly felt sheepish for going off on a tangent. Shivering, he flexed his numb fingers and said, "Anyways, we should be getting back. It's getting cold."

When Spock agreed without further question, relief washed over Jim and he smiled. Even though the two were standing in front of death markers, Jim personally felt that he should not exude depression, especially not for Spock who obviously had it the hardest. Smiling eased Jim, but the man also hoped to express to the Vulcan that he meant well. After all, this was the person he wanted as his First Officer. Prepared to end the conversation, Jim adjusted his fingers on the umbrella handle, trying to get the blood flowing back in his fingers. "Thanks for hearing me out. And for watching my back when we were on the _Narada_."

"I did what was necessary," Spock said in a low voice, and without warning, moved closer to Jim. For a moment, the younger man swore the Vulcan was reaching for his hand and his stomach flipped at the thought; but Spock merely took the handle beneath Jim's fingers. "Nothing more and nothing less," the Vulcan murmured and nodded to the stones, eyes dark. "Despite our losses, you humans always seem to have something to be thankful for. It is contradictory but strangely optimistic."

As Jim shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged, he experienced a range of conflicting emotions. Disappointment and relief washed over him at the same time when Spock had taken the umbrella. His fingers could now warm up, but Jim preferred it if Spock had—"Call us illogical," Jim remarked, shaking the thought from his mind.

"That is my general opinion."

Seeing the gentle lift of Spock's brow once more produced spontaneous bursts of butterflies in Jim's stomach. He couldn't help but remember the Vulcan he conversed with in a hallway just a few months prior, a Vulcan that was as equally quirky and charming like the one now. Seeing how Spock seemed much more relaxed, Jim decided right then that he would not trouble the Vulcan with business. Far from being depressed by then and reacting without the influence of anxiety, Jim released a small laugh that even he could feel.

00000000000

Still under a single umbrella, Jim matched his footsteps alongside Spock's. Somewhere in the middle of walking away from the memorial stone ten minutes back, they had realized that synching their steps improved their travels. Consequently, without meaning to, they ended up not parting ways. Well, Jim hadn't wanted to at least because when he saw how easily Spock returned to his somber mood, the man actually wanted to comfort him; for skewed reasons, Jim personall_y_ felt that he had to. If Spock was to be his friend and First Officer, then Jim would have to get to know him. He needed Spock's trust.

And so Jim had asked his fellow Vulcan if he would join him for another walk. Much to the man's great relief and confusion once more, Spock had merely nodded his head. They now strolled through puddle laden streets, their bodies sometimes bumping while Jim held the umbrella between them. Conversing lowly, Jim's fingers occasionally flexed and clenched to endure the cold; by the fifth time it happened Spock took over as he had did before and they continued on aimlessly.

It seemed a long time ago that Jim could just wander around the city as he did. He didn't have an impending exam or lectures to attend to. In fact, Jim was already captain yet he felt less pressure than he did when he was a cadet. _Strange. _As he thought this, Jim looked everywhere around him, marvelling at how everything could morph into non-recognition under pellets of rain. He didn't get out much beyond the campus but Jim felt like he could appreciate everything now. Today was probably going to be the last time he would be here in a long while.

Although sad, Jim was not necessarily put out. He secretly brimmed with excitement. Perhaps it had something to do with a particular Vulcan beside him, or perhaps it was the fact that Jim could freely explore. Whatever it was that made Jim enthusiastic made him lead Spock from one place to the next, occasionally greeting people he knew as he did so. They went to an antique book store…

"_Who was Finnegan?"_

_Surprised, Jim looked at Spock for a bit and remembered the Vulcan had been in the same row as he was during the memorial, so he must have heard him say the name. "Just a man who bothered me in my first few years in the Academy," he murmured over a glass case of books._

"_I see." Spock nodded his head. "I disapprove of bullies."_

_Jim raised a brow and chuckled. "He was nothing I couldn't handle." _

_An uncomfortable silence ensued as they browsed the shop. Then, "Our first meeting involved books," Spock murmured as he walked down an aisle of glass cases. _

"_And the second," Jim said grinning beside him; then he faltered. "The third time was supposed to be the charm but I knew it was too good to be true."_

"_The third time is the charm?" Spock repeated confused._

_Jim smiled and waved it off. "Nothing, it's an inside joke."_

…browsed the farmer's market…

"_The third time we met, you had consumed an apple as well," Spock observed as Jim bit into a red fruit he had just bought._

"_What're you talking about? The third time we met was during the court hearing—"_

"_You ate an apple during the Kobayashi Maru did you not? Do you enjoy that particular fruit?"_

"_Yeah I did eat one but, hey—we never met during the Kobayashi Maru."_

"_I observed the simulation from behind the two-sided mirror room. Admiral Pike had told me that there would be a cadet of considerable interest to me if I went."_

_Jim was nearly stunned into silence. Even in Jim's standards he knew that he had acted like a brat during the examination. To think that Spock had seen that…no wonder the Vulcan had been so vehement towards him. "I only eat an apple to keep the doctor away," he muttered._

…rested at a café…

_Jim knew that Spock had been looking at him oddly, as if wondering Jim was so cheery. He called the Vulcan out on it and explained. "We can be better than this you know," Jim said over a cup of coffee, and thought back to the memorial—to Vulcan and the many cadets and Starfleet officers who had died in vain. "We've paid our respects," he murmured seriously, "now we should honour it by being better people. We survived. We should make up for the thousands others who couldn't." And Jim knew this applied to him the most. He was captain now—he needed to prove that he deserved it…and for some reason, he needed to let Spock know that first._

_When Jim looked at the Vulcan, he merely stared at Jim. Then Spock gave a languid nod and picked up his cup of tea. "Given the aftermath of the Narada Incident, as I have stated before, you are quite the optimist."_

_Jim wasn't too sure on how to take that. So he was a wishy-washer? "Is that a bad thing?"_

"_No," Spock answered lowly, sipping his tea. "It is…refreshing."_

…and nearing the end of the day, they went to an Italian restaurant…

_For the majority of their meal, Jim watched Spock eat, wondering at how anyone could eat so meticulously. The way Spock's fingers held his fork and brought it to his lips—well, Jim never thought that something like that could ever look so…arousing. _

_Gulping down the last of his food and wiping his mouth, Jim willed his wicked thoughts away. Spock was after all eating a vegetarian plate. In contrast, Jim felt like a carnivore. When he looked over at his companion's plate, a thought suddenly occurred to him. "Hey Spock, I'm gonna run to the washroom real quick. I'll be back."_

_Spock nodded then frowned. "You should not run if you have an upset stomach, Kirk."_

_Jim snorted. "I don't have a stomach ache or anything. I use the word 'run' as an expression, but I'm just gonna _walk_ there." And Jim did—to the cashier. When he returned, Spock had already finished his plate. "Did you like it like I said you would?"_

"_What you said has nothing to do with whether or not I would 'like' it," Spock stated, patting his mouth, "however, I would not object to return here a second time."_

"_That's great," Jim smiled. "This is one of my favourite places to eat. Are you ready to go?" They gathered their coats and Jim just knew that Spock would head towards the cashier. "It's alright!" Jim grinned, pulling Spock by the shoulder. "I dragged you here, so you don't have to pay. I already did for the both of us anyways."_

_Spock looked slightly bewildered at Jim. "I was not notified of this. Kirk, I am completely capable of paying for my own meals—"_

"_I know," said Jim gently nudging Spock out the door. He placed the umbrella between them as they began to walk. "Sometimes I don't mind paying for the other's meal." Actually, the only times Jim did this was if he was on a date, or with McCoy…and Spock was neither, so he was a very special exception. He looked at Spock's vaguely turned down brows, and couldn't believe the Vulcan was upset. "Hey, I'm sorry—is it a Vulcan offence to pay for your meal or something?" _

"_It is not," Spock replied, glancing at Jim, "but it would be an offence on my part if I do not return the favour in the near future."_

_But that was only if Spock joined Jim on the Enterprise, and Jim, no matter how much he wanted to bring it up, did not mention that he would be leaving the next day. He felt that if he did, some spell would be broken_.

Throughout their travels, Jim had carefully watched Spock, intent on making the Vulcan relax. He observed the way his companion carried himself. Spock was stiff as ever, hands in his pockets, occasionally to warm them probably, but his eyes constantly stared straight ahead. He did not seem to _see_. When people spoke to him, he was flawlessly cordial, rational, his voice perfectly hollow.

There was life around them, civilization was teeming, yet, Spock seemed to be all alone. Yes, the Vulcan stood beside him, but also apart. Jim could not imagine having Earth taken from him, but he knew what it felt like to lose the people he loved, so he tried his best to distract Spock. He took him to all his favourite places, places that comforted him when he was down and hoped that it would have the same effect on the Vulcan. But by the end, it felt as if Jim was the one being comforted.

They parted on an anti-climatic note. Because it had stopped raining by the time they reached the academy, the Vulcan handed Jim his umbrella, expressed his gratitude for Jim's company, and left. Jim had stood outside for awhile after that, looking at Spock's retreating back before it rounded a corner and disappeared from his view.

It had been warm when Jim stood next to Spock under the umbrella, but now the man felt colder than before. Turning towards the dormitories, Jim began the walk back with his hands shoved in his pockets.

Sure the Vulcan had entered his life in an unexpected way and it was subtle at first, but after the _Narada_ Incident, Jim felt as if Spock was an integral part of him. Had they not risked their lives together with each other? Had Jim not tried his best to appeal to Spock?

Then why—_why _did the Vulcan give him the most hollowest of words today when they had parted?

When Jim entered his dorm room, McCoy greeted him. At Jim's mumbled reply, his friend stood up from the sofa and asked with concern, "What happened?"

"Nothing," Jim murmured taking off his jacket and hanging it. He put the umbrella in a corner and walked away. "Absolutely nothing."

0000000000

So….this chapter totally did not turned out as planned. I don't know how many times I've changed it but in the end, I didn't want to make it _too_ happy, and this was the result. What do you guys think?


	10. Boarding and Greeting

**A/N:** It's been a while since I've updated but I think I did pretty well in writing a majority of the chapter in one day. Surprised even myself.

Thank you all who have favourite this fic and/or following. If you reviewed thus far, that makes you guys even more awesome. Enjoy and let me know how this chapter is!

Warp Factor 10: Boarding and Greeting

Standing up from his bed, already clothed and ready to go, Spock put down his PADD. He had sent his application for First Officer earlier that morning and then he had just finished emailing his father and Pike about his plans to board the _Enterprise_. As for Uhura, who had sent him an email last night, Spock wasn't too sure how to reply. She wanted to know when he would be arriving on the starship. Since Spock wasn't too sure himself, he did not reply.

He had not realized it but if Spock decided to go to New Vulcan, he would have left Uhura. The woman had already assumed that he would be part of the _Enterprise _crew. Spock felt slightly guilty that he hadn't informed her of his earlier decision—it would mean to leave her behind and that he hadn't thought about their relationship.

But Spock wanted to board the _Enterprise_ after all; it did not take the Vulcan long to pack his belongings just in case he was accepted.

Spock took his lyre, his PADD, two pairs of clothing for duty, sleep, formality, ceremonial purposes, and meditation—all made from a durable and synthetic material that was antibacterial and would require little maintenance. He also packed basic hygienic products, a holographic photo projector, a mat, incense, several undergarments and two pairs of socks of the same fabric as his clothes.

Taking one last look around his room that he had lived in for the last two years, Spock realized that he would not miss this place one bit. Its sterile walls, cold floor, and functional furniture left little to no impression on Spock. The only positive aspect of the room was its balcony and the vista it provided. All in all though, this was the last and closest place he could call home. Yet, he was so willingly abandoning it for the _Enterprise_.

After several seconds of glancing around, Spock pulled his luggage with him. The echo of the rollers against the hard floor was the last sound he heard before the door silently slid shut behind him.

00000000000

It was a rough ride. The shuttlecraft doors hissed open and as light poured in, Spock's stomach did tiny tumbles. It hadn't been that way when he boarded the smaller ship, but as he gathered his belongings and filed to exit the shuttlecraft with the rest of the official ship members, the tumbles just came.

At first, Spock ignored it. He passed several officers of the _Enterprise _crew, heard Kirk's name pass between conversations and the tumbles changed to swells. Again, he ignored it. Leaving his luggage with an ensign until further notice, he walked out of the shuttle bay area.

Then it happened again, only the swells turned into waves when he heard Kirk's voice itself. It broadcasted all over the ship welcoming aboard the last of the _Enterprise_ crew members. As Spock made his way to the bridge, Kirk continued to announce that they would also be welcoming Vulcan guests as soon as everyone else was settled in.

By that time, Spock realized that he was actually _nervous_. The last time he had experienced such a feeling was when he had met T'Pau, a priestess and one of Vulcan's great leaders, for the first time when he was a child.

The hands behind Spock's back tightened around each other. Of course it made sense to be nervous, especially when he was on a ship that had not approve of his application. Not yet anyways. Spock was perfectly qualified for the position, and he knew that, he just didn't understand why it was taking so long for his application to be accepted on the day the starship was leaving. For sure a captain would need a first officer. So, Spock made it his mission to confront Kirk himself.

It wasn't as easy as he had originally thought.

What if Kirk rejected his application? What if Spock was too late and someone had already filled in the position as First Officer? But Spock knew there was a vacancy when he applied. So, he had decided that he would personally ask Kirk himself and secure the position.

Spock paused in front of the turbolift doors and stood aside to allow people back and forth.

Before meeting Kirk, he just needed to calm himself down first.

00000000000

"Permission to come aboard, Captain," Spock requested when he entered the bridge. He didn't have as much trouble as he thought he would have in addressing the man. To his surprise, Kirk looked more subdued than usual, as if fatigued. Nonetheless, the man stood up with a strained smile.

"Permission granted," Kirk said with the same cheerless smile. It was definitely not the one in which Spock had grown accustomed to the previous day.

Confused about the sudden change in the man's attitude, but not deterred, Spock approached Kirk and met him halfway. The Vulcan could feel the bridge members watching their every movement, but Spock did not look anywhere save for the man in front of him. It was he that Spock wanted approval from. So, he got straight to the point. "As you have yet to select a first officer, respectfully, I would like to submit my candidacy." Not wanting any room that would allow for refusal, he added, "Should you desire, I can provide character references."

Again, there was that smile that the Vulcan couldn't quite name. "It would be my honour, Commander."

In a second, Spock's worries disappeared and he gave a subtle nod in acknowledgement. The tickling in his stomach subsided; nothing was left but confidence. He briefly glanced around the bridge and saw many familiar faces as he stepped down. Chekov remained the helmsman, Sulu was the pilot, Doctor McCoy was for some reason on the bridge, and…where was Uhura?

Spock walked around a pillar to get to his station and saw the woman. Slowly he passed her, giving her an expression that implied "does that answer your question?" Shaking her head with a wide smile, Uhura returned to her station.

00000000000

It did not take long for the thirty or so Vulcans to board the _Enterprise_. Spock was surprised to learn that Kirk had already organized their accommodations. Supposedly, for the first week, some of the crew members would be bunking with each other so that their Vulcan guests would have a place to sleep. Spock double-checked the list of accommodations on his PADD to make sure everything was in order just in case. This was going to be the _Enterprise's_ first mission after all and Kirk's as well. To his surprise once more, Spock found nothing wrong with the Captain's plans.

The guests were paired in to fifteen rooms, displacing thirty others who would be pairing with their fellow officers, but even then, those few were also adjusted quickly. Each officer had to report their status and so far, all was well. Vegetarian meals had already been programmed into the food replicators, and even the average temperature of the ship rose by seven degrees. In addition, the crewmen had to memorize a minimum list of Vulcan etiquette such as no physical contact. There were a few others as well, but Spock was genuinely impressed already.

Kirk was taking a lot of consideration for their guests. It was too perfect, however, as if he had outside guidance.

"Commander Spock."

Spock glanced sideways to the man who was walking in step with him. They were heading to the meeting room on deck two. "Yes, Captain?"

"You've been looking at your PADD for a while now," Kirk asked with a curious look. "Is everything in order?"

In the first two hours that Spock was on the bridge, Kirk had not been as open as he had been yesterday. The man was easy-going in general, true, but he also knew his responsibilities. Now that they were in the halls, Spock thought Kirk had loosened up considerably.

"So far that is the case. All accommodating officers have reported successfully settling into their temporary quarters."

"And your people?"

"You have been extremely considerate to their needs. They too have reported the same success. Did you consult with someone else before making these arrangements?"

"What, you didn't think I'd be able to plan all that by myself?" Kirk asked with a small frown.

"I do not doubt your intentions, Captain. I am just curious to know how you arranged all this in such a short period of time." _Without a First Officer_, Spock added in his mind.

"Well, since I didn't know when I would be getting a First Officer, I just thought about this ahead of time and…_alright_—I did have a _few_ pointers," Kirk admitted.

The two continued to walk down the corridors, casually greeting the crew members who acknowledged them. "From whom?" Spock wanted to know. He could have helped, but oh wait…Spock didn't apply as First Officer until today.

Kirk spoke warmly. "Just an old fellow I met recently."

Spock almost stopped walking. "A Vulcan?"

"Yes, actually," said Kirk, but before Spock could inquire any further, Kirk suddenly asked something else. "By the way, how do you do the Vulcan greeting?"

No choice but to demonstrate, Spock held out his right hand as he walked and instructed Kirk to do the same. Spock's pinky touched his ring finger while the middle and index did the same; his thumb stood apart. Then the Vulcan watched, amused, as his Captain tried to mimic the gesture.

After a few seconds, Kirk swore. "Damn my stiff fingers—they just don't_ part_ that way!" He shook his hands, assumingly to loosen them up.

Spock had seen many people attempt the Vulcan greeting. Some got it after a few tries, others gave up, but Kirk was persistent. It was all a little _too_ amusing to watch. "Captain, I am sure you are capable of such coordination," Spock stated. He repeated the gesture slowly but it did not help. Kirk clenched and unclenched his fingers and even tried to hold his fingers together with his other hand. However, when he released his hold, the paired fingers snapped back into their original natural position.

Kirk swore again that attracted a few stares.

"What's wrong with my fingers?" the man muttered shaking it again. "They're rebels, the lot of them!"

Spock wasn't even going to try to understand the last sentence. "You do not have to offer the Vulcan greeting," he pointed out. "It is not expected."

"But I _want_ to," Kirk insisted stubbornly, but he did not clarify why. "We're going to be meeting the Vulcan High Council soon. I don't want to butcher this gesture." After several more attempts, which yielded the exact failed result, Spock pulled the man aside.

They stood close but not against the walls. Increasing his mental barriers in order to not be sensitive to touch, Spock looked Kirk in the eyes and asked, "May I assist you, Captain?" He held out his hand in invitation.

Spock watched as Kirk eyed him with caution. "Are you sure about that? I mean you are a touch telepath from what I've gathered," the man asked.

"I assure you your emotions will not transfer to me. Vulcans are capable of desensitizing our ability for a period of time."

"...Fine, if you say so. What do I need to do?" The man held out his hand in a sigh. "I've done more complicated things than this. Why is _this_ so hard?"

"I believe it is because your hand is too stiff," Spock answered, reaching for Kirk's hand.

"I think I've already established that," the man ground out.

When Spock's skin made contact with Kirk's, a small jolt passed through his fingertips; he quickly withdrew confused.

Kirk looked quizzically at him. "What's the matter, Mr Spock?"

"Nothing…" Spock reached for the hand again, this time maximizing his shields completely. When his fingers curled over Kirk's, the Vulcan only felt a faint buzz. Nonetheless, he did not let go, even though it troubled Spock that he had felt anything at all. "Do not tense, Captain," Spock instructed. Despite the unexpected experience, he was determined to see Kirk through. The man himself was determined and it was Spock's people that Kirk would be meeting. As First Officer to this captain and being a Vulcan himself at that, Spock wanted to contribute to the man's efforts. He would not be selfish at a moment like this.

When Kirk's hand seemed to draw away, Spock tightened his hold by just a fraction. "Kirk, relax your fingers," Spock said more firmly. Unconsciously addressing the man by his last name, for a moment, the Vulcan saw his captain as a cadet again.

"I'm trying to," Kirk muttered, but Spock was not looking at him. He focused on the hand in his palms.

As Spock explained what he was doing, he pressed his thumbs all along the inside of Kirk's hand trying to relax it. The palm felt rough, slightly callous; Spock wouldn't be surprised if the man himself was a laborious or hands-on individual. Slowly but surely, the hand lost its tension as it became limp. Then Spock began to work away from the palm to Kirk's fingers. He felt skin pinching together, thick joints and knuckles, the same callousness, and rounded-squared digits that were flatter. All the while, the same buzz flitted through his hand, but when they reached Kirk's fingers, the buzz transformed into pin pricks.

Spock casually let go, not wanting to appear disturbed.

The whole exchange happened in less than a minute.

"I believe your hand is now relaxed enough," Spock stated, hands behind his back and looking at his captain. "You may attempt the gesture once more."

Kirk raised a brow and flexed his hand. "By the way, it's not like I don't think you're not capable, but…was I suppose to feel anything?"

At the man's words, Spock stiffened. "…_Did_ you feel anything?"

"Yeah, some kind of tickle," Kirk replied. At the same time, he successfully separated the ring and middle finger so that they were rightfully paired. "I did it!" He held out his hand in the vertical position and grinned.

The Vulcan didn't realize before, but he may have been waiting the whole day to see an expression like that on Kirk. "You learn quickly, Captain."

"Learn what?"

Spock turned around to see Uhura coming to a pause in front of them. She had a PADD under her arm and looked interested in what they were doing. "Captain Kirk, you do know that the meeting is just a few minutes away."

"Ah, Lietenant Uhura, I was just practicing the Vulcan greeting," Kirk said with a smug look. "See?" He held out his hand to face the woman.

She effortlessly did the same, to both Kirk and Spock's surprise.

"Did you practice that?" Kirk asked, suspicious.

Uhura smiled. "Actually, I haven't. That was my first time."

"I must commend you Lieutenant," Spock interjected. "Most humans are incapable of such a gesture in the first attempt."

"Thank you, Commander Spock, but I must return to the bridge now. I'll see you later," Uhura said beginning to walk. She nodded her head to the captain and left.

Kirk huffed. "How did she get it so fast? Never mind, let's go Mr. Spock."

The Vulcan swiftly followed. Secretly, he was relieved that the captain did not mention the greeting any further. In fact, he would _not know_ how to answer Kirk if the man asked why he felt the tickling sensation. To begin with, Kirk was not supposed to feel anything at all.

00000000000

Undoubtedly, when Kirk came into the meeting room, he impressed the Vulcans with their greeting. Spock saw his father and a few other Vulcans that he had evacuated from his planet, but he did not see his elder self like he thought he would.

All in all, the meeting went smoothly. After making sure that the Vulcans had settled in comfortably, Kirk discussed their trip. They would be making stops to a few other planets to pick up Vulcans and equipment. After that, they would be heading towards New Vulcan. Estimated time would be approximately a week.

Kirk also made it clear that as guests, the Vulcans would be able to travel freely on the ship as long as they kept away from certain areas like Engineering. If they wanted, a tour of the ship would also be provided. Spock even volunteered to make the tour himself. He had studied the blueprints before, although, at that time he had been expecting to be under the captaincy of Pike.

"Any more questions?"

Spock looked around to see if anyone else had more to say, but if Spock knew the High Council, it was that they were efficient and straight-forward. Any questions they had would have already been answered.

"There are no farther questions to discuss, Captain Kirk. We appreciate the generosity you and your crew member have demonstrated thus far," an elderly lady stated.

"Very well, then our meeting here is at an end."

Just as Spock was about to leave, his father called out to him. "Father," Spock said with a nod. "I assume you have read my email?"

"I have," Sarek answered. He looked his son in the eyes. "I will not question you further about your career choice. It seems that you are quite adept in your duties. So, I merely ask you to continue to perform admirably."

The words echoed in Spock's mind. They were the same words he spoke to Uhura in the turbolift after his mother had died. Yet, he was the one who was emotionally compromised and failed to follow his own meant something different now. Before, Sarek had disapproved of his path and they grew estranged for the past six years. To continue to perform admirably…it suggested that Sarek had always seen Spock do just that, despite the _Enterprise_ Incident.

The younger Vulcan nodded his head in acknowledgment. "Yes, I intend to do so, Father."

00000000000

It was 2100 by the time Spock was heading towards his quarters on Deck 5. It had been a long, eventful, and enlightening day. He was returning from the bridge along with Kirk, Uhura, Montgomery Scott, and McCoy. While the latter kept glaring at the Vulcan, in which Spock could still not figure out why, Uhura did the opposite. Her glances were subtle but Spock knew better than that already.

In less than seven minutes, the travelling group dropped from five to two. The hall they walked in was empty. Beside their footsteps, there were no other sounds.

"So everything turned out better than expected," Kirk commented. After Spock agreed, the man glanced at him. "So, what took you so long to apply anyways?" he asked. "I thought I was going to be without a First Officer."

Spock did not want to explain the trouble he went through to get to the point where he was now. "I merely needed more time to think, Captain."

"Call me, Jim," Kirk insisted. "We're off duty now anyways. No harm in doing that. By the way, "Spock" is your last name. How do you pronounce your first name?"

Spock said his full name and earned a baffled look from the man beside him. Not ready to call Kirk by his first name, Spock decided he would just not address the man whenever possible. "You may refer to me by surname. That is always acceptable," Spock stated.

"Yeah, I think I will."

As they continued to talk, Spock unconsciously passed his quarters and stopped at 3F 121, where Kirk's was. The man turned to face Spock with anxiousness in his voice. "By the way, is it common for you to say just two-words as farewell after spending time with someone?"

"…Are you referring to last night?" Spock did recall himself doing something like that. The way Kirk asked and the way Kirk had acted earlier when he had entered the bridge…was Spock responsible for Kirk's attitude? The Vulcan did not anticipate that. "I…may have been brief with you but it was in no way meant to offend you. In fact, I must express my gratitude for your company. In addition, if you needed a First Officer, why did you not ask me?"

Kirk blinked. "It didn't seem appropriate at the time. Besides, I thought you would've applied yourself earlier, I mean we did work well together."

It was true, but again, Spock did not want to explain himself. "I am here now, is that not suffice?"

"No, it's great!" but when Kirk did not say anymore, Spock slightly bowed his head and backed away.

With nothing else to say, the Vulcan said, "You must rest for tomorrow, Captain."

"It's Jim," Kirk smiled tiredly and entered the code for his room. "Thanks for walking me to my room I guess. Goodnight Spock."

Hesitantly, the Vulcan nodded and watched Kirk enter his room before he turned around and entered the room just beside the Captain's.

* * *

_Did you know?_ Leonard Nimoy, the original Spock, introduced the Vulcan salute. The original T'Pau from "Amok Time" could not do the salute in one hand but could do so with the other. In _Star Trek: 2009_, Zachary Quinto could not do the salute. They had to glue his fingers together during filming.

Interesting stuff, huh? Do you guys have any tidbits I should know about?


	11. Salutes and Goodnight

**A/N: **Thank you for last chapter's reviews, it was nice to hear people's experience of the Vulcan salute and other facts. By the way, "Spock" is a first name and not actually the last name as I have written in this chapter and the previous. I will make revisions if anyone has a huge problem with it, but in the mean time, just remember "Spock is first name!"

Warp Factor 11: Salutes and Goodnight

Jim looked to where Spock was standing by the turbolift. The man still wasn't still quite over the previous night where it seemed all his time with Spock meant nothing to the Vulcan. To his annoyance, it kept him awake all night yet the time was not wasted. Jim made sure he was very productive, especially when he had received an email from a certain Vulcan he had met on Delta Vega. Apparently, the elderly alternative of Spock called himself by the name of Selek now. After conversing with the Vulcan for a good half hour, Jim ended up working into the wee hours of the next morning.

Currently and in all honesty, Jim really didn't think that Spock would appear on the ship. As fate would have it though, there the Vulcan stood in all his formal and pristine glory. Since Jim needed Spock, the man wasn't going to complain. He granted the Vulcan's request to come aboard and stood up. Just as he did so, Spock began to walk towards him, an action which Jim mirrored.

They reached each other, standing a foot away and locked their eyes on the opposite pair. It seemed to be a pattern nowadays. However, the melancholy eyes that had been there yesterday were replaced with a new set. These eyes were as dark but alight with determination and vigour. When Jim saw them, he would already anticipate the following words. Meanwhile, the Vulcan did not waste any time.

"As you have yet to select a First Officer, respectfully, I would like to submit my candidacy. Should you desire, I can provide character references," Spock stated. He looked expectant.

Trying to appear good-spirited, Jim did his best to give a professional smile. At the same time that it made him relieved, it also made him angry to hear Spock's words. Why didn't this damn Vulcan let him know _sooner_? Then Jim wouldn't have had such a sleepless night and difficulties with reading over the mission details and planning. He also wouldn't have been so dodgy when the bridge asked who was going to be the First Officer.

"It would be my honour, Commander," Jim said instead. He wasn't going to let personal feelings get in the way, especially on the first day of his first official mission.

At his acceptance, a tension that Jim knew was all over the bridge was lifted. He could even hear deep exhalations from a few people. He looked around after Spock passed him and raised a brow. Did everyone really think that he was going to start a fight with the Vulcan?

Chekov and Sulu smiled before turning to face the front. Jim went back to sit down on the captain's chair, feeling tired.

Spock was finally his First Officer just like Jim wanted, yet, why did he not feel satisfied?

00000000000

"Lieutenant Uhura, what is the status report of our Vulcan guests? Have they all beamed aboard?" Jim asked from his seat. He turned to look at her expectantly.

"Yes, Captain," Uhura replied. "The Vulcan High Council is now waiting in Briefing Room 5 on Deck 2, just as you have requested."

"Good," Jim said swivelling back to the front. "Now that everyone's on board, Lieutenant Sulu, plot a course to Argo VII at Warp Factor 3."

"Right away, Sir."

"Excellent." Then Jim pressed a button on the right-side of his chair to give a ship-wide announcement. After giving a general welcome to the Vulcans, he switched the setting off.

Everything seemed to be going as planned and it should be, because Jim spent too damn long perfecting his plan and acting like the good captain. Only one thing was left to do. Jim turned to look at the Science Station on his right. He tried to sound normal, like how he did when he usually spoke to the Vulcan, but the voice that came out sounded stiff even to Jim's ears. "Commander Spock, have you looked through the mission brief I gave you earlier yet?"

Spock swiftly turned to look at Jim, his expression neutral, and his PADD still in hand. "I am nearly finished, Captain."

"Great, come with me to the briefing room," Jim said standing up. He was tired of sitting around.

0000000000

When Spock touched Jim's hand, the man nearly jerked his hand away the moment he felt a sensation similar to static. "Kirk, relax your fingers," Spock demanded sternly.

How did Jim end up with his hand in the Vulcan's? It was simple really—he needed a distraction from the question Spock would undoubtedly have. For example, how would Jim know so much information about the Vulcans and how to accommodate them so quickly? It was Selek's advice that helped guide him through the mission revisions. That was information Jim wasn't going to spout off to Spock, especially since the two meeting would result in a catastrophic phenomena. So what better distraction at the moment then to ask your Vulcan First Officer how to do the Vulcan salute? Not to mention…Selek was currently leaving the Briefing Room at Jim's abrupt and urgent request—he needed time for the Vulcan to leave unnoticed by Spock.

So far Jim could only manage a partial salute. It was grating on his nerves that such a seemingly simple gesture was requiring much more effort than Jim would have liked. He was supposed to be a genius—not a dextrally inept captain!

"I'm trying to," Jim nearly growled, trying to do as he was told, but it was difficult especially when there was a persistent tickle that followed wherever Spock touched his hand. He looked at his First Officer, to see if there was anything wrong. However, the Vulcan's face remained concentrated on his palm and betrayed no emotion whatsoever.

"You seem to have difficulties separating your middle and ring finger," Spock noted. Jim felt the Vulcan's digits press against his palm and tried to relax his hand again, ignoring the tingling sensation. "Once your muscles are relaxed, it will be easier to control your fingers."

Jim listened and with each stroke the Vulcan pressed into his skin, Jim could feel his hand slowly relaxing. At the same time, he mused at the sensation of Spock's hands. They were comparatively cooler than his own, dry, and longer. There were wrinkles at the joints and neatly trimmed nails. For some unbeknownst reason, Jim liked it.

Instinctively, Jim looked up, past Spock's shoulders, and his eyes widened. He just _knew_ someone was watching them.

There just in the middle of the hall, a tall and elderly Vulcan stared at them with one brow raised. Jim could almost see the smile in that gesture. He quickly looked at Spock, saw that he was thoroughly distracted, then looked back at Selek, jerking his head to the side a couple times. _Get away from here!_ Was the message Jim tried to convey. Sure enough, Selek casually turned away and continued in the direction where Jim had travelled from.

Relief washed over Jim. Then suddenly, tiny jolts of…what? _Electricity?_ Jim couldn't quite name what he had just felt at the tips of his fingers, but as soon as he felt it Jim returned his attention to the Vulcan in front of him.

Just as quickly as the jolts came, Spock coincidentally let go.

Jim looked at him with suspicion, wondering what the hell just happened. Again, the Vulcan appeared emotionless. He took a step back, putting his hands behind his back. Then he told Jim to attempt the salute once more, but Jim had more interesting thoughts in mind.

He flexed his hand and locked eyes with the Vulcan. They were considerably far less stiff than before. "By the way, it's not like I don't think you're not capable, but…was I suppose to feel anything?" Because it was curious that Spock would so easily offer direct help to begin with, claim that he would be able suppress all emotions upon contact, but then why had Jim felt all those ticklish sensations? Was it a side-effect from the Vulcan's suppression?

For the first time that day, Jim could hear a little hesitation in the Vulcan's words. "…_Did_ you feel anything?"

Taken back, Jim replied and tried the salute again, "Yeah, some kind of tickle." But Jim did not think about it for long. He looked at his hand and grinned, a feeling of joy quickly swept over him. "I did it!" He said triumphantly.

"You learn quickly, Captain."

"Learn what?"

Jim turned to see Uhura. She pointedly stared at him and reminded him of the meeting. Feeling smug, Jim smiled. "Ah, Lietenant Uhura, I was just practicing the Vulcan greeting, see?"

Unexpectedly, Uhura copied the same gesture.

Jim couldn't believe it. He had to get a hand massage to break out his salute! "Did you practice that?" he asked, putting his hand away and feeling somewhat ashamed. There was no way she could have done it the first time, but alas…it truly was Uhura's first.

When Spock spoke, it made Jim feel even more putout. The Vulcan commended Uhura at her first attempt, in which the woman thanked him and took her leave. Jim watched her as she left and exhaled sharply. One of the reason why he liked Uhura was because she was talented in many ways. Just this once though, Jim would have liked to best her _at least once_; particularly at the Vulcan salute.

He wondered out loud how Uhura had managed to do it so quickly, but then he decided he wouldn't bother about it anymore. Just thinking about it was making him annoyed. He continued on towards the briefing room, not noticing Spock's silence.

00000000000

By the time Jim had finished with the meeting, left Spock with Sarek and the ship tour, checked up on Bones (or more like bother) in Sickbay, Jim also went about each of his Vulcan guests' quarters, then to his officers' quarters, to make sure everything was going well. So far, no one had any issues and many Vulcans expressed their gratefulness to his officers and to him.

Once in a while, Jim would pause in his hectic pace and watch Spock explain a particular function or area of the ship that his tour group was in. Seeing his First Officer so composed in the starship, as if the Vulcan belonged here all along, made Jim smile to himself. He hadn't been in the best of moods at the beginning of the day, but after the salute lesson from Spock, Jim felt that he was warming up to the Vulcan once more.

Then without a word, Jim left the Science lab he was in and headed to the bridge.

00000000000

"Get a good night sleep, y'hear me, Jim?" Bones said patting the man roughly on the back. "I'll see you in seven hours," he said tiredly. Then he broke off from Kirk and Spock, the last of their group that they had been travelling with.

The hall the two officers walked were now quiet, save for the distinct click of their boots against metal. Jim wondered when Spock would leave for his room, but since they were heading in the same direction, Jim made small talk. "So everything turned out better than expected," Jim said glancing at Spock.

"Indeed it has," the Vulcan nodded his, returning Jim's glance.

"So, what took you so long to apply anyways?" Jim asked curiously. "I thought I was going to be without a First Officer."

"I merely needed more time to think, Captain."

After being the figure of authority for more than seventeen hours, Jim had just quite enough of hearing "Captain." He insisted Spock call him by his first name. "We're off duty now anyways. No harm in doing that," said Jim. Then he asked what Spock's full name was. The man could only blink in bewilderment when he head Spock's name in its entirety.

"You may refer to me by surname. That is always acceptable."

"Yeah, I think I will," Jim murmured. _No one _could pronounce _that._

Before long, Jim arrived at his door. He turned to look at Spock, wondering why they hadn't passed the Vulcan's room yet. Jim's was the last on this deck.

"By the way, is it common for you to say just two-words as farewell after spending time with someone?" He couldn't help bringing up the question he had since the night before. It was crucial he knew because, well…if Spock was going to be his second in command, Jim needed someone he could get along with.

"…Are you referring to last night?"

Jim nodded. When Spock explained that he didn't mean to offend, he also asked why Jim did not ask him directly about being his First Officer. Jim thought it was obvious.

_Of course I wouldn't ask a sulking Vulcan to be my First Officer after a memorial! _The man thought. _I'm not heartless and plus I didn't want to ask that after we had a good day—it would just seem like I was just trying to suck up to you…_

Instead what came out was, "It didn't seem appropriate at the time," Jim said shrugging. "Besides, I thought you would've applied yourself earlier, I mean we did work well together."

"I am here now, is that not suffice?"

It was more than suffice, and Jim expressed just so, but after that he didn't know what else to say. The choice of words were strange, even from the Vulcan's lips. What could he say to that? Since Spock more or less answered all his questions already, the Vulcan distanced himself from Jim, in which the man hadn't realized they had even been that close. Then he slightly bowed his head. For a split second, Jim anticipated the same cold words he had received from before.

"You must rest for tomorrow, Captain," Spock stated.

Relieved, the man smiled wearily. Those words would be enough. "It's Jim," he automatically corrected and pressed the buttons by his door. Thanking Spock for walking to his room, Jim bid the Vulcan "good night." The last image he saw were a pair of confused brown eyes, but Jim could not think anymore.

His door automatically closed behind him and Jim dropped into his bed, shoes and all.

00000000000

The next day, Jim woke in the same position he fell asleep in. He sluggishly got up and kicked his boots off. Then he stretched his body before letting his arms fall heavily beside him. Opening his mouth to yawn, he half-heartedly dragged his feet across the floor towards the bathroom door.

Seven hours hadn't been nearly enough sleep that Jim would have liked, but it was better than nothing. Plus, he had a dreamless sleep for once.

Jim lifted his left hand and blindly searched for the button. After two random slaps on the wall, he finally managed to open the door. It whooshed open and Jim's eyes were met with blinding light. He squinted, wondering why the lights were on but didn't dwell on the thought. Slowly, he moved in, his feet still dragging on the floor. Yawning again, tears prickled the side of his eyes.

"Good morning, Captain."

Jim paused, his hands halfway up his shirt to scratch his belly. Did he just hear what he thought he just heard? He looked up, his eyes flying open, and suddenly Jim wasn't so tired anymore. He stumbled back at the sight of the Vulcan standing just a few feet away from him.

"S-Spock!" Jim managed to blurt out, catching himself on the wall before he could fall. "This is _my _bathroom—what are you doing in _my_ bathroom?" He said incredulously as he quickly straightened himself out.

Dressed all in Starfleet's standard sleepwear, Spock wore a snug black t-shirt and loose black flannel pants. He stood by the sink, his back straight, and his hair slightly mussed up; he held an electric toothbrush in his right hand. The Vulcan gently lifted a brow, as if it was Jim who was clearly in the wrong.

"_Our_ bathroom," Spock corrected. He washed his toothbrush and set it aside to quickly rinse his mouth.

Jim thought his ears must be hearing things. "Wait, wait," he said, waving his hands in confusion. He stepped closer to the Vulcan and eyed him carefully. "I must be super tired or something, 'cause, I thought I heard you say this is _our _bathroom."

Spock gracefully lifted his head away from the sink and looked at Jim patiently. His hands casually went to his back. "You are not mistaken. This is indeed _our_ bathroom."

Jim visibly paled. He was definitely confused now. "How can this be _our_ bathroom when your room is, like, on the other side of the ship?!" Actually, Jim didn't know if that was true or not and Spock did walk him to his room last night, but nothing was making sense right now.

When Spock took a step back, the door behind him slid open to reveal the inside of another bedroom. "My _room_, Captain, is evidently right beside yours. We share this bathroom."

For a moment, Jim was dumbstruck. "_Why?_" he demanded afterwards, and quite selfishly too. _You've got to be kidding me_, Jim thought with frustration. He had to share a bedroom and a bathroom with Bones for three years. Why couldn't he finally get a bathroom to himself? "This is the captain's quarters—why is _your_ room attached to _my_ bathroom?!"

Spock appeared to be patient, standing in the doorway, but his voice said otherwise. "As I have stated before, we share this bathroom. Neither you or I have greater possession of it over the other as these are adjoined quarters," Spock spoke tersely. "Were you not informed by Captain Pike? These quarters were originally meant for him and his First Officer wife, Number One, for the five year exploration mission. Since his captaincy has now been overturned to you, and I am your First Officer, we have replaced them."

Jim had not heard about any of this. _At all_.

"I had assumed that you would have been already made aware of our quarters, but I am clearly mistaken," Spock stated stiffly. "If you are not comfortable with this arrangement, I will switch with Dr McCoy by 2400, but until then," Spock gave a curt nod to Kirk before walking out, "I will see you on the bridge, Captain."

0000000000

Because of the unexpected encounter with Spock in the washroom, Jim's morning began with a rocky start. He was upset about the lack of information he received regarding their adjoined quarters. No one had even tried to inform him. Pike did give him an amused smile when Jim had asked what the captain's quarters were like, but thought nothing about that secretive smile. Jim knew now that it was supposed to be a "surprise."

After relieving himself, taking a sonic shower, and brushing his teeth (with occasional glances at Spock's door all the while), Jim exited the washroom. He noted where Spock had put all his belongings, and then Jim arranged his belongings opposite of the Vulcan's. He wasn't going to complain. Now that he thought about it, maybe he did over react just a bit. Spock might have been offended.

Fumbling as he dressed, Jim quickly called the doctor to meet him in the mess for breakfast. With the last tug of his pants, Jim left his room and walked down the hallway. He definitely needed to talk to Spock about the whole bathroom situation once he calmed down. Taking the turbo lift to the third deck, he headed towards the officer's mess. There were not many people at that hour, since it was still only around 0700. So, Jim spotted his best friend easily at a table only occupied by the doctor. When the man saw Jim, he quickly waved him over.

"So what's so important you've gotta tell me when I'm not even supposed to be on shift yet?" Bones asked between a yawn. The man pushed a tray of replicated food towards Jim while he picked at his own. "You're not gonna eat a full meal if you replicate it yourself, so take this—no, _you_ called me out here. Now _eat_ it."

In the few years that Jim spent with his friend, he learned that the doctor was stubborn and not one to be pushed around. The good doctor didn't take crap from anyone, even from Jim. There was no point in arguing with Bones that early in the day. Pulling out a chair, Jim heavily sat down across from his friend and pulled the tray towards him with obvious disappointment. He had been looking forward to a more protein rich meal. Instead, there was a cup of orange juice, pancakes with bacon on a plate, and…a bright red apple.

"Bones…" Jim began slowly, never taking his eyes off the fruit. "Did you know that Spock and I have an adjoined bathroom?"

The other man nearly spluttered out his food. "Wha? You and that green-blooded hobgoblin?"

Jim patted the other man's back. "That's right. Not that I'm complaining, but you know, just this once I'd like my own room. Spending those three years with was pretty tough after all."

Bones shrugged Jim's hands off. "Well, sorry for being a bad—wait—_you_ were the one who wanted to room with me for the past three years!"

"Ah, that's right," Jim murmured eating a pancake. He grinned at his friend. "You're the one who agreed every single time though."

"Yeah, I'm fool for that one," Bones sighed.

"He said he would switch with you if I didn't like it," said Jim, getting back on topic. He pushed his pancake around. "I wonder why you of all people…?" Then Jim remembered telling Spock that Bones was his best friend. "Never mind, I think I know why."

"If he ever bothers you, just let me know."

Jim raised a brow. "You gonna open a can of whoop-ass on him?"

Bones shook his head exasperated. "My god, that expression is so old. By the way, I'm a doctor and a psychiatrist. I can write him off as compromised if the need arises."

_Need?_ Jim stared quizzically at Bones. "I don't think so. Spock and I are on pretty good terms now I guess. I mean besides that one incident, of course but you know I already apologized for that."

"Speak of the devil," Bones muttered.

Looking up, Jim saw the Vulcan and Uhura heading towards the two. Like the first time he saw them hold hands, the man felt a knot building in his stomach. "Morning Spock," said Jim as casually as he could. "_Nyota_," he said teasingly to the woman. The two responded accordingly, Spock with a nod and Uhura with a soft shake of her head and, "Good Morning, _Captain_." Then they seated themselves across from Jim and set down their trays.

"Have you spoken to Doctor McCoy about the arrangements?" Spock inquired.

"Yeah, I did but I'm fine with it now," said Jim looking apologetic at the Vulcan and not exactly meeting his eyes. "Sorry I overreacted before. It didn't mean anything…I was just, surprised I guess. Anyways, I'd be happy to share with you."

"That is fortunate, Captain."

"_Jim_," the man corrected once more and grinned. "It's not time for duty yet."

Unlike yesterday, Jim felt energized. It felt like a good day so far with Spock's acceptance. He was going to look forward to it.

* * *

_By the way_, some of you readers might be familiar with the name "Selek" from other fics around here. I thought a fanfic author might have made it up but, I looked it up and it's a real name! In the short-run animated series of the Original Star Trek, "Selek" is the name Spock refers to himself as when he goes back in time and meets the kid version of himself.

Thought you guys would be interested in knowing ;)


	12. Geniuses and the Standard

**A/N: **I've been steadily updating the last few weeks. My goodness, something must be wrong with me.

Well, this chapter has more dialogue than most, but I hope you guys enjoy it!

Anyways, thanks to all those who have taken their time to review. I appreciate all the favs and follows as well :)

Warp Factor 12: Geniuses and the Standard

Spock hadn't locked the other door; he didn't think he needed to. So, he just switched on the "Occupied" light on. Within fifteen minutes, he heard the second door slide open and his head turned towards the direction. The Vulcan expected a knock at least. To his surprise, there was Kirk still wearing the same command uniform he wore yesterday and looking like he just woke up. The man's hair was messy, his eyes were screwed shut, and his hand was halfway under his shirt scratching his belly…

It took five seconds for Spock to tear his eyes off the exposed skin and greet the man.

"Good morning, Captain."

00000000000

"He didn't know there would be an adjoined bathroom?" Uhura gave a small laugh. "That sounds just like him to not know something like that. Everyone knows that this ship has an adjoined part for the Captain and First Officer—there was a huge debate about it before its construction."

"I am aware of that fact, but the Captain clearly did not," Spock stated.

The Vulcan had meditated for half an hour after the washroom meeting. Then he went to meet Uhura to have breakfast, as they had promised the night before. The two were now headed to the Officer's Mess. The halls were mostly empty save for themselves.

"Have you discussed about how to share the area?" Uhura inquired as they walked.

"We did not have the time. Since the Captain was so against the arrangement, I suggested I could switch with Doctor McCoy, and removed myself from the area," Spock answered. He had not wanted to suggest it, but the Vulcan remembered Jim's face and the utter rejection the man had expressed. He didn't want to admit that he had been affected by the man's reaction…

"_How can this be our bathroom when your room is, like, on the other side of the ship?!" Kirk's pale face asked. _

_Spock was relieved that he had woken with no nightmares, but he wondered if he should have stayed asleep longer. The man was up close, interrogating Spock as if everything was his fault. It annoyed and hurt the Vulcan at the same time. Did the Captain truly not know they had adjoined quarters, was Spock's thought as he took a step back. Even though he kept his eyes on Kirk, he knew the door behind him had slid open based on the whooshing sound it made. "My room, Captain, is evidently right beside yours. We share this bathroom."_

_The man looked even more shocked than before. Then he stepped forward, demanding, "Why? This is the captain's quarters—why is your room attached to my bathroom?!" _

_Spock could not bear Kirk's patronizing voice any longer. It reminded him of the first time he had stayed in the Starfleet Academy dorms. His roommate had been less than accommodating and even bordered on being xenophobic; one thing had led to another until Spock requested a room change. The same thing happened with the next roommate although subtle compared to the first one. However it had been a doomed arrangement to begin with; his roommate had requested the room change before Spock had the chance. His second year had not been so bad, however, in the Third and Fourth years, Spock had managed to get his own room. He always wondered since then though—what was it about him that people didn't like?_

_He stared at Jim and tried not to sound impatient. "As I have stated before, we share this bathroom. Neither you or I have greater possession of it over the other as these are adjoined quarters," the Vulcan informed and explained why. By far, this had been the worst arrangement experience for Spock. At least the others tolerated him for a day or two. Kirk outright denied his presence the moment the man had seen him._

_At the Kirk's silent dismay, Spock continued. "I had assumed that you would have been already made aware of our quarters, but I am clearly mistaken," the Vulcan said and hesitated. He really did not want a repeat of the past. If the Captain was against this then it was better to resolve it before anything got worse, and just when Spock was so sure things would be different this time around. "If you are not comfortable with this arrangement, I will switch with Dr McCoy by 2400, but until then I will see you on the bridge, Captain." _

Spock looked at Uhura, "Can you repeat that?" He only just realized the woman was asking him a question.

The woman huffed, "I said why switch with McCoy?"

"McCoy is Kirk's bestfriend. The Captain told me himself," the Vulcan answered. "It is only logical to switch with a crewmember that is more familiar with the Captain."

Uhura gave a short chuckle. "Those two are well-known for being the _worst_ roommates together back in the Academy. I hear complaints about people whose rooms were right beside theirs. Things like yelling and things breaking."

Spock raised a brow. Did he make a terrible mistake? "I...assumed that best friends would get along. Am I wrong?" The Vulcan himself never had a bestfriend, so he couldn't confirm his own question.

"Most of the time I suppose," Uhura murmured then smiled, "the best of friends though are those you can argue with but still stick together with. Those two are proof of that."

The Vulcan let the words sink in and pondered about it for a moment. Any arguments he had never left him with a friend. He looked at Uhura. "I do not understand such a relationship. Do you have a bestfriend?"

Uhura's smile faded just a bit. "I did."

Doe-eyes, green skin, and a mass of red curls appeared in Spock's mind.

_Gaila._

He remembered the Orion cadet who had frequently picked Uhura up after her tutorials with him. Uhura had mentioned her roommate a few times, even at the café a couple days ago as well. He felt bad for reminding Uhura about her now. It wasn't intentional.

"It's alright," Uhura said smiling, as if she knew what Spock was thinking. "I'll be alright," she murmured, reaching for Spock's hand. He let her fingers curl over his own.

Even though Spock's telepathic shields were in minimal place, he was surprised that he could not feel anything from the woman. Only when he lowered it by 20% did he feel the usual warmth.

Spock looked forward, remembering that Kirk had easily slipped through his barriers at its maximum.

00000000000

After retrieving their synthesized meals, Spock followed Uhura as she made her way to a table with two men. One was wearing blue, the other…yellow.

The Vulcan suddenly lost his appetite.

"Morning Spock," said Kirk when Spock arrived. To Uhura, the man smirked. "_Nyota_," he teased.

Upon hearing that, Spock found that he wasn't as annoyed as he had been on the transporter pad when he heard the woman's name from the man's mouth. Somehow, he knew the man was only being playful. He nodded his head to the Captain while Uhura responded with a sarcastic greeting. She sat in front of Kirk while Spock hesitantly sat across from McCoy.

As usual, the good Doctor glared at the Vulcan.

Did he really want to leave Kirk with this man? Spock turned to Kirk immediately. He wanted to know, "Have you spoken to Doctor McCoy about the arrangements?"

The man averted his eyes, even rubbed his neck a bit, and looking apologetic. "Yeah, I did but I'm fine with it now. Sorry I overreacted before. It didn't mean anything…I was just, surprised I guess. Anyways," said Kirk meeting Spock's eyes. "I'd be happy to share with you."

Spock blinked. The worst arrangement may have just turned out to be the very best. No one had ever said that they would be "happy" in regards to anything involving him. "That is fortunate, Captain." It truly was. Spock's appetite returned.

"_Jim_," Kirk insisted and smiled. "It's not time for duty yet."

Before Spock could say anything, Sulu, Chekov, and Scotty appeared at the table.

"Morning Captain, Commander Spock, Uhura, McCoy" they said in a jumble.

"Mind if we join you?" Scotty asked cheerfully.

"No, no, come right ahead!" said Kirk and everyone scooted down the bench chairs.

Sulu sat beside the Captain, Scotty at the end of the table, and lastly, Chekov took his seat beside Uhura.

"So, how did everyone sleep last night?" Kirk asked, taking a bite out of his pancake.

"Like a dog," Sulu replied munching.

Spock raised a brow at that answer but could make no comment as Chekov spoke next. "I zlept like kitten," the young man said animatedly.

"I slept like a well-oiled machine," Scotty chipped in, and bit a chunk out of his sandwich.

To all these answers, Spock did not have a comment on. He could only wonder why these humans were comparing themselves to animals and machines on how they slept. Dogs were loud, kittens were quiet, and machines could be quiet too. _Ah_, he thought, taking a sip of tea from his cup, _they speak figuratively._ Vulcans never compared themselves to something they were not. They stated what was true and what wasn't as logic dictated. Figurative language was of little use and value except in a few areas. Bonds were one of them.

Sulu swallowed then asked, "So how do you like your adjoined quarters?" the question was directed at Kirk.

"Actually, I didn't know about it until today," the man half-laughed, throwing a quick glance at Spock. "But yeah, it's not bad so far. Spock and I haven't decided how we'll split the place up yet, but we'll get around to it eventually."

"After our last shift," Spock agreed. He felt more comfortable now.

"By the way," Kirk stopped eating and perked up to look around the table, "can all of you do this?" He held out his right hand in the Vulcan salute.

What happened next pleasantly surprised Spock. Even with a sandwich hanging from his mouth, Scotty hands were both doing the salute…as well as Sulu, Chekov, Spock turned to Uhura and saw that she too was capable of doing the salute with both hands. She smiled at him which Spock returned with a raised brow. Lastly, he looked at McCoy. The man just stared at his hands as if there was something wrong with them.

"Are you kidding me?" Jim muttered, dropping the salute. "I can only do it with my right. I know this isn't Uhura's first time, but what about everyone else?" When almost everyone nodded, Jim made a frustrated sound. "How?!"

"I've played several instruments growing up. I have no problem being ambidextrous," Uhura replied.

"I've been a tinkerer my whole life!" Scotty answered.

Sulu shrugged. "I've been a gamer since I was five," he said chewing. "Need to have good dexterity and fast reflexes to be a pilot."

"Ah, I hawe been gamer zince I was three!" Chekov proudly added.

Apparently, the gesture wasn't so hard for humans after all. Spock was thoroughly impressed by everyone's efforts, save for a few persons…

Kirk whipped his head to face Spock. An accusing expression donned the man's features. "And you call _me_ a quick learner? I'm a dunce compared to these geniuses!"

"Well, count me in with ya, Jim," said McCoy from Kirk's side. He flexed his hands experimentally and frowned. "I don't think I can do the salute even if my life depended on it."

Kirk turned to his friend and laughed in disbelief. "You're a surgeon, Bones! Shouldn't you be good with your hands?"

"Damn hell I am, but I'm at a loss here," McCoy admitted, pulling his ring and pinky finger together. They separated like opposing magnets right after he let go.

"I can help with that."

Spock was halfway lifting his spoon to his lips when he saw Kirk grab McCoy's hands. He froze, his soup nearly spilling at the abrupt stop. The two men faced each other, as Spock and Kirk had faced each other.

"What's all this fondling supposed to do?" McCoy asked looking at their hands.

"It's _massaging_, Bones," Kirk corrected. "It's supposed to help relax your muscles enough so your fingers are more flexible."

To Spock, the display may as well have been fondling. Even though he knew they weren't Vulcan and touching hands were normal (he had seen plenty of that on Earth), the way Kirk's hands slowly ran over the Doctor's simply looked obscene to Spock. He turned his eyes downwards, suddenly taking a little more interest in his meal.

"Yeah? And who says?" McCoy asked.

"Spock," Kirk casually answered like it was nothing. "It works—well it did on me at least."

Feeling eyes on him, the Vulcan gently lifted his head to the side. The expression Uhura gave him was questioning, while everyone else murmured.

"Well, whaddya know?" McCoy said grinning. He held out his Vulcan salute for the people at the table to see. Almost all congratulated the man.

00000000000

While everyone else headed to the turbolift for the Bridge, Spock and Uhura lagged behind. "Are you alright?" she asked concerned.

Spock nodded. He knew she was referring to the incident the day before and unlike most people, she knew a great deal more about Vulcans. Not to mention, Kirk had also sent out an email the day before about basic Vulcan customs. Spock looked ahead; made sure the officers were out of ear shot, before he admitted, "My shields have not been performing usually as I had hoped."

"Does it have anything to do with Kirk?"

"I do not have adequate information to answer that," murmured the Vulcan. "My shields may not be the same since the destruction of my planet. I have realized that when I touched Kirk with my shields on." He didn't specify how much they were raised, but it didn't matter. Kirk broke them even at 100%.

"You felt something?" Uhura prodded.

"Yes," and not wanting to make everything center around the man, Spock also said, "but there is something strange when I touch you as well." As in he couldn't feel as much as he usually did.

"Me? What about me?" the woman wondered. Spock asked if she had felt anything the last time they had touched hands. "If you allowed me to then, yes, I do feel warmth and a little tickling."

They neared the turbolift where everyone was just getting in and waiting for them. Before Uhura could comment anymore, Spock interjected. "Nyota, we will discuss this after I have inquired another Vulcan."

Uhura nodded. "Alright, I just needed to know you're alright," and they both walked on to turbolift together.

"Took you lot about time," Scotty said and set the lever to the Bridge.

00000000000

At first, Spock planned to ask his father about his shield problem. Then he thought better. Despite reconciling with each other, they may still be lightyears apart when it came to understanding each other. Plus, Spock didn't want to admit that his Vulcan control may not be what it used to the person who had his highest expectations and who had disciplined him the most. Spock would not bother his father.

As he worked the Science Station, making sure there were no abnormalities, he did a side search of the Vulcan guests on board the _Enterprise_.

He swiped his PADD upwards to scroll down. He passed his father's name, read a few more names that he knew were healers, but did not linger on them. They were from houses that had openly opposed against his mother and father's union. He would not consult his issue with them.

By the time Spock had gone through the whole list, he did not find the name he was looking for. Well, of course he couldn't…how suspicious would it look if there was another guest with the same full name as his?

But Spock was not one to give up. He scanned the list a second time and came to a name that was not familiar to him. According to the description of the Vulcan, he was a male, of over one-hundred years of age, and from a branch from Spock's main house.

"Selek," he murmured quietly, and was immediately drawn to it.

00000000000

When it was time for lunch, Spock was more than willing to take a break. It's not that he was looking forward to filling himself up, no—he planned on doing a little personal research.

"Mr Spock," Kirk called.

The Vulcan paused in the turbolift and held the door open for the man until he came in. "Yes, Captain?" and closed the door. He called out the destination.

Kirk was smiling when he asked, "Do you want to grab lunch together?"

Spock's first reaction was that, yes, he wanted to. He _really_ did, but the Vulcan had more pressing matters to deal with first. He would have to forego the offer. "I apologize, Captain. I have an issue I must resolve as quickly as possible." At Kirk's faltering expression, Spock couldn't help but add, "However, I will be available for dinner if you are available, Captain."

"Sorry, but I have a date for dinner," Kirk said a little apologetically. Then he shrugged, "It's alright though. We can find another time to have meals together. We do live beside each other after all, right?"

_A date?_ Spock thought. He stared at the captain. Was he perhaps referring to the woman known as Rand, the Yeoman, who had asked him to sign a few PADDs earlier? They had only exchanged a few words together! But plenty of smiles had passed between the two and Spock knew only too well how much smiles were worth.

He looked sharply away from the man. "Yes. Another time." Then when the turbolift doors open and Spock swiftly exited, he turned back to Kirk. "I will see you after break, Captain."

The man silently nodded and the door closed between the two.

00000000000

There was only half an hour to spare. Spock quickly arrived at his destination and asked for permission to enter the room. The doors smoothly slid open, revealing a familiar face.

"Ah, Spock. It is good to see you again."

"Greetings, Elder Selek," Spock said. "May I come in?"

"Very well. I've been expecting you," the elderly Vulcan stepped aside for Spock to enter. "I assume you have questions for me?"

"Yes." Another thought appeared in Spock's mind. "You were the Vulcan that the Captain took advice from were you not?"

Selek nodded.

"I see," Spock murmured, and then continued. "Were you not also supposed to be in the meeting yesterday? Based on your position, you were more than qualified to be there."

"I was there, but Jim had requested that I leave immediately before the both of you would arrive."

Spock was confused by the Vulcan's familiar use of Kirk's first name, but more than that he realized why the man had suddenly asked him to teach him the salute yesterday. Spock frowned. "The Captain still assumes that a catastrophic phenomenon would occur if we saw each other. Why did you not tell him that we have already met?"

"I leave that up to you two to discuss," Selek answered with a knowing smile.

For some reason, the elderly Vulcan was beginning to annoy Spock. He did his best not to show it, and decided he would just ask what he originally came here to ask. "I will enlighten him when I have the chance. More importantly, I must ask you. Is there something wrong with my shields if it can be bypassed at its highest level? Does the destruction of our planet have something to do with it?" Spock didn't know how other Vulcans were faring compared to him.

"Unstable shields were common after the loss of Vulcan, yes. However, raising shields is no difficult feat for those who practice it daily and have strong mental bearings. I assume you have?" When Spock nodded, Selek continued. "If your emotions and mind are steady, then there is nothing wrong with your shields."

"Then why was there a…_buzz_ when I touched his hand?" Spock wasn't entirely sure that "buzz" was the correct word to describe the sensation he had felt the day before, but he could find no other word of equal value.

"Whose hand?"

Spock didn't really want to answer but did so anyways. "Captain Kirk's."

"Have you touched another to compare?"

"I have held Lieutenant Uhura's hand occasionally," Spock answered. "However, it has not been the same since I have made contact with Kirk's. I find that I need to lower my shields more than usual to feel anything from her."

"Lieutenant Uhura?" Selek questioned amused.

"She is my partner," Spock clarified just in case. "Is there really nothing wrong with my shields?"

Selek seemed to smile. "There is not. However, it seems that your Captain Kirk has set a standard."

"A standard?" the younger Vulcan repeated, perplexed. "What do you mean?" But Spock had the notion that he already knew what he meant.

* * *

_So…_what do you guys think?! I don't know about the other Bridge members but I've only seen McCoy attempt the Vulcan salute. In STOS, Season 2 Episode 10: Journey to Babel, Spock showed him the salute, but the man totally _failed _at doing it :o

Anyways, how's the pace so far? Too slow? Too much recap from the previous chapter?

Hearing some feedback would be awesome :) Thanks!


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